


Pirate King (Fantasy!Pirate!AU)

by chasingatinydream



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst and Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fanfiction, Kpop fanfiction - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2019-10-19 22:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 63
Words: 177,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17610308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingatinydream/pseuds/chasingatinydream
Summary: Waking up has never been so interesting.You've escaped the gallows, run through a battlefield and stowed away on a pirate ship named the Treasure, all in the span of a single day. Even better, you've lost all your memories and have no idea who you are, where you are or what you are doing here.Then you meet the Pirate King, captain of the Treasure, the ruthless ruler of the Caribbean Seas.Life as an amnesiac on board a pirate ship doesn't seem very promising, but hey, anything's better than becoming shark food.





	1. Where It All Began

The sounds of the waves crashing against shore, the white sea foam like clouds of the sky.

Salt touches your tongue as sea spray catches the light of the sun, casting a beautiful rainbow across your cheeks.

Seagulls circle in the clear blue expanse above, their cries ringing out for miles.

Rain lashes against your arms and droplets clings to your eyelashes. They resemble tears.

Lightning splits the darkness of the clouds and thunder akin to cannon shot rolls overhead, but there is no fear.

You smile wide, joyous and happy, but then something in your chest weighs you down.

Suddenly, you’re yanked into the depths, water filling your nose and lungs and all at once, you cannot breathe. The weight in your chest drags you down, down, down, and no matter how hard you flail and thrash about, no matter how desperately you reach for the surface…

There is nothing but darkness.

Drip, drip, drip.

Your eyes flutter open softly, like a new butterfly’s wings. You’re lying on something wet and rough beneath your body, and to your horror, when you instinctively try to rub your eyes, your hands are bound together by a coarse, thick rope.

Right in front of you is a puddle of water and drops of water keeps falling into it, forming tiny ripples. You try to sit up as your eyes instinctively follow its path, up the grime ridden stone walls to the crack in the ceiling were rainwater seeps through. A spider lazily weaves its web in a corner and for a moment, you’re spellbound by it.

_Crack!_

You flail backwards at the deafening sound of a thunderclap, but your hands are tied together and you’re sent crashing to the ground painfully. Luckily, the ground is wet so the fall isn’t as painful as it could have been, but you still feel a tenderness in your hip where bare skin got dragged across uneven stone. You suck in a breath.

_“Come on, it’s not that bad. Sit up again.”_

Exhaling carefully, you roll onto your back, ignoring the pain of the small rocks digging into your side, and finally heave yourself up with a haphazard effort of numb limbs. Your bound ankles come into view, along with dirty, calloused bare feet. They’re tied with a thick red cord that there’s no chance you can cut through or untie, and when your mind finally screams at you the obvious, your heart stops.

_“You’re in a prison.”_

Your head snaps to the right, metal grills lining the tiny window in the room. To your left, the only exit secured with heavy metal bars, kept locked by three iron chains, each with a metal padlock at the end. Whoever locked you up here wanted to make sure you had no chance of escape. Before you can think any further, the sound of chattering and clanking metal wrenches you back to the present.

“-some woman down here.” The sound of heeled boots echoes down a flight of steps. There’s a soft squeak of leather and the man curses. “Damned stairs, what was that bastard Arthur thinking, holding a public execution today? Justice calls, my ass. He probably just wants to get rid some whore that heard his mouth running when he was drunk-”

“Quiet, Mannon!” Another voice, higher and hushed this time. “You never know if someone could overhear you! The governor will have you hanged!”

“Ha!” A derisive snort. To your mounting horror, their footsteps seem to be drawing nearer to your cell. “As if his men are going to lug themselves here to check on a mere prisoner. Lazing about in their offices all day, doing nothing but paperwork, afraid to get their hands dirty- Oh, she’s awake.”

Your face jerks upwards, but seconds later you flinch away from the light of the torch in the men’s hands. Slightly disoriented, you try to regain your bearings. That’s when the shorter and slightly rounded man pulls out a set of key from the pocket of his crimson uniform, moving towards your door. Your hope bubbles in your chest like a warm spring.

You watch, fascinated, as the chains slither away from the bars, landing in heaps on the floor. The man that resembles a bamboo stick draped in an ill fitting uniform steps forward and with a quick swipe of a pocket knife the ropes fall from your ankles. Warm blood rushes to your feet as if it’s the first time and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” You say gratefully, but the men simply stare at you, one unsympathetic and stone cold, the other won’t quite meet your eye. The portly one shakes his head, hand reaching down for the cord that binds your hands behind your back and tugs you to your feet carelessly.

“Don’t thank us for dragging you to the gallows, girlie.” The man snaps, unceremoniously shoving you forward. Before you fall, the other man catches you by the shoulders, steadying you. He’s warm.

“Mannon, stop doing this, alright?” His voice echoes somewhere far, far away, as if you’re underwater. You don’t register what he said.

Gallows?

“Yes, gallows, the place where people get hung, idiot.” A voice in your inner subconscious rings out, surprisingly clear even through the white noise that had filled your mind from panic. The insult manages to slap you back to your senses.

“Idiot?” You repeat to yourself under your breath, almost offended as the two guards pull you out of the cell and march you up the stairs with your hands tied behind your back. This laughingly pales in comparison to the actual trouble you are in.

Then it hits you full force.

You are walking to the gallows. Walking to your own death.

There’s a moment of serene peace for a moment, then you’re panicking, trying your best to recall what exactly has led you to this. What had you done to be deserving of the death penalty? You wrack your mind desperately for some some sort of answer, some sort of reason, but nothing comes forth except a blank, white canvas where your memories should be.

Where are your memories?

Fear floods through you like a tidal wave, rising and sweeping throughout every corner in your mind. It’s so real it’s palpable, clawing at your throat and stealing the breath from your lungs. There is nothing in your memories, no smiling parents, no first birthdays, no new pretty dresses, no favourite foods, nothing but white noise and the sound of waves crashing against shore.

How old are you? What did you eat yesterday? Why are you here?

Who are you?

You can’t even begin to fathom the answer to that one question.

“Hey, move it.” The rounder guard behind you shoves the small of your back forward, your bare feet dragging along the cobblestones of the street. The sky is dark and grey, as if weeping for all that you cannot remember and you see the townspeople peering at you and whispering to each other from tiny cracks in the doors and windows, no doubt wondering who it is unlucky enough to suffer the wrath of the official of the town. But there is not an ounce of recognition, only sympathy. Nobody cries for you, nobody tries to stop you as you take one step after another to the gallows. Nobody knows you.

You are alone.

Suddenly everything becomes so real to you. The feeling of cool rainwater as it trickles down your cheeks, the stone against your bare feet. The crisp cold air of a storm. The colour of the rain clouds. In another few minutes, you will be completely devoid of all sensation.

“I refuse.”

Like any thunderclap, the sound is deafening, it makes your eardrums ring and if your hands weren’t tied you’d clap them over your ears. But most thunderclaps don’t split buildings or cause massive screaming and mayhem.

“The official’s building!” The skinnier guard cries out in horror at the sight of the roof on one of the larger buildings on a hill collapse in on itself. There’s another ear splitting boom, and in the next second, your eyes manage to catch a glimpse of a round shape flying through the air before in plunges into the already collapsing building.

“Pirates!” You hear someone scream, his voice cracking with desperation and fright. “Pirates at the harbor-” His voice is abruptly cut off just as the clanging of a bell fills the air.

“Hurry, Philip! We need to get there!” The guard, Mannon, yanks on his partner’s arm and without a second glance back at you, they sprint down an alleyway, pulling sabers from hip sheathes.

You blink.

You’re free, just like that.

Your eyes dart around for something to free your hands with, but there’s nothing and you can hear the sounds of screaming getting ever closer. Townspeople are fleeing into buildings, doors being slammed shut, candles being extinguished, bolts drawn. From where the official’s building, you hear the click of several heeled boots pacing down the street in double time.

Between them and the pirates, you’d pick the pirates.

So with your hands bound behind your back, you dash down the same path your two captors took.

The sound of cannon fire fills your ears and there’s smoke everywhere. Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, one step at the time. There’s another earth shaking boom and suddenly the ground next to you explodes. You bite back the scream in your throat and continue running, you can’t afford to fall now. There are people all around you, dressed in the distinctive red coat of the law authorities here or in a motley array of tunics and breaches, both hold weapons, and both are dying.

As you move forward without looking back, there’s the sound of clashing metal, musket fire, screams of the wounded or dying. A man suddenly falls in front of you, blood pooling like a blossoming rose across the white of his undershirt, matching the vibrant red of his uniform. You leap over the corpse and turn back, staring open mouthed at his unclosing eyes, still wide in his shock, the slack muscles in his cheeks and jaw unmoving.

He’s dead.

You look up, almost instinctively. There’s a young man standing there, a long spear in hand. He’s wearing a sandy brown shirt over a white linen tunic and long, white pants that only accentuate his height tucked into knee high leather boots. His eyes, a soft brown beneath matching curls, meet yours for a split second.

Then you run.

You sprint as fast as you possibly can, feet flying over fallen swords and broken planks. You cannot stop. Through the acrid scent of smoke and gunpowder, you can finally smell it.

The sea.

In the harbor three ships are docked. One, with the emblem of a crimson rose embroidered onto its flag, has had its mainsail torn to shreds and the deck peppered with holes. Majority of its crew lie dead or unmoving, and even as you watch one of the last gun crews are blasted into the sea by a round cannonball, which shatters upon impact with the deck to form tiny, flying pieces of shrapnel that take out the gun crew beside it. The other ship, presumably a merchant vessel, is looted bare as its crew watches helplessly. Pirates heave chests of salted fish and silk cloth onto the third vessel.

The third ship is a large, ocean going vessel. Above its three sails on the mainmast flies its flag. A plain black design with the word ATEEZ in bright, bold orange, you immediately know this is the pirates’ ship. The harbor is chaos, clamoring of two sides to get the upper hand, but you can’t stop now. Taking a deep breath, you dash forward.

A blade narrowly misses your neck as you continue running with all your might, sliding under the business end of a swinging club. You barely feel the sting of your skin tearing as a stray musket ball nicks your upper arm, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a drug. You feel something warm and wet soak into the fabric of your sleeve, but like hell you’ll let that stop you now. By sheer dumb luck, you finally reach the gangplank of the pirate ship and dash up it, the wood creaking beneath your feet. They might be bleeding after that mad dash through town, but you’re here.

Now what?

Fighting is still going on all around. Pirates work in small groups to fight off boarding officers as they try to swarm the pirates. You hear a voice shout out “Fire in the hole!” over the din, and the five subsequent explosions send the boat rocking from side to side.

You’re still not safe.

Glancing around desperately, your eyes fall onto a small hatch in the main deck. Dodging the end of an ax on the path of its back swing, you leap for the trapdoor. Thank heavens you’re barefoot, because only with your toes you manage to nudge the bolt open and pull the hatch open. It’s stairs, leading down into the gloom of the storage hold, and from what you can hear, relatively quiet.

You’ll take your chances.

With a painful grunt, you take the stairs two at the time and your legs give out at the last moment. You crash to the floorboards just as the hatch closes over your head, throwing you into darkness except the faint shafts of light coming in from the cracks in the upper deck. Your ankle throbs with pain, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You frantically drag yourself behind a few barrels in the corner, out of sight of anyone coming down the steps and huddle down, praying for the ship to sail as fast as possible.

As if the gods were listening, you hear someone above deck shouting commands. “Weigh the anchor! Unfurl the sails! Wooyoung, fire the retreat flare!”

The voice is deep as the ocean and has an unmistakable air of command. You hear the pirates scrambling to carry out the orders, footsteps thudding across the deck and from the screams and splashes next to you, they are tossing the town officers overboard too. Not a second later another massive boom rocks the ship side to side, you knock your head on the barrels and a bundle of sackcloth falls onto you.

“Oww…” You mutter under your breath feeling something warm trickling down your temple, but then suddenly you hear the same, deep voice issuing commands again.

“Raise the gangplank, make way!”

There’s a sudden jerk of movement as the wind fills the sails. You gasp as you are almost thrown forward, barely regaining your balance at the last moment as the ship begins moving away from the harbor. The furious cries and jeers of the town officers fade away, replaced the sound of the sails beating in the wind and the lapping of waves against the side of the ship.

Home, your mind tells you.

As if all the fight has left you in a single moment, you slump back against the wall, the energy thrumming in your veins evaporating like steam, leaving only a sore ache in your limbs. You should really tend to the cut on your head or find some way to free your hands, but the overwhelming exhaustion crashes over you. The sackcloth is really warm, and you need to be properly rested before you can think of a plan.

“Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a few seconds.” You tell yourself as your eyelids slide shut and your breathing slows. You sink into a deep sleep.

It feels like you’ve barely closed your eyes when a voice shakes you out of your slumber.


	2. Found and Alone

“All the dried fruit has been accounted for.”

You fight down the yelp that had almost left your mouth, trying to quieten your breathing as much as possible. Two men, from the sound of their voices, are inspecting the food stocks. You’re going to be found.

“How much salted fish?” The deeper, lower voice you heard giving commands earlier asks his partner, and you pick up the sound of a pen scratching across paper.

“Enough to last us two weeks, if Jongho doesn’t eat them all by the first.” The second voice, softer and gentler, quips and they both share a laugh.

“That kind smile hides a darker mind beneath, Seonghwa- _hyung_.” The speaker with the deeper voice comments with a rolling chuckle. You’re still frozen in fear as they continue to take inventory, but them finding you is inevitable.

“How much alcohol did we get?” The person she assumes to be Seonghwa asks and you hear the sound of barrels shifting. “San needs some of it to treat the wounded.”

“Enough rum to last us till Tortuga and some wine and beer on the side.” His partner replied, writing some more things down. “I’m sure we can spare a barrel or two, not many of them got injured.”

“That’s a relief.” You can hear the worry leave Seonghwa’s voice, but your panic levels are jumping as you hear them move ever closer to you. “I heard Yunho didn’t have a scratch on him.”

“Neither did Jongho.” The other man snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already down here, chomping his way through the apples. Look, the sacking fell. I’ll get it.”

And suddenly the sackcloth is pulled away from your head.

You don’t have time to think. Lunging forward, you headbutt the man who removed the sackcloth from you in the face and you hear him let out a howl of pain, letting go of the sacking to clutch his bleeding nose. Your eyes dart around desperately for an escape route, but before you can move, someone slams you against the wall, the tip of a razor sharp knife pressed to your throat.

“Don’t move.” It’s the softer man, Seonghwa, although his grey eyes are hard as stone now. You can’t look away, transfixed, and he continues to speak, eyes never leaving yours. “Mingi, you alright?”

The man he addresses has a long, face with strong, defined features and narrowed eyes, tiny braids done in his cerulean blue hair. He’s tall, taller than you by about a head. He gives you a resentful scowl. “I think he broke my nose.” The words come out thickly as the man you now know to be Mingi cups both hands over his face, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Then it hits you.

_He?_

It’s true you’re not especially curvy and your chest has been bound by strips of cloth, but you didn’t expect to fool people so easily.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to choke out. Seonghwa and Mingi exchange surreptitious glances.

“You should get San to look at that, Mingi.” Seonghwa advises, worry written all over his face. Mingi nods wearily, blood falling through the cracks in his fingers and staining the ground.

“Let’s get this kid to Hongjoong- _hyung_  first.” The taller man sighs, grabbing you by the shoulder with a bloody hand and pushing you towards the stairs you had tumbled down from. Pain lances up your ankle, but you steel yourself and step on it anyway.

It’s excruciating, but you don’t dare to show any weakness. They might toss you overboard. Or feed you to the sharks. You don’t know and you really don’t want to find out.

You bite on the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood, but you manage to make it onto the main deck. Many faces turn and look upon you with surprise, then they see Mingi bleeding from the nose and their expressions turn threatening. One even draws his sword.

You flinch back into Seonghwa, who steadies you by the shoulders, while Mingi addresses the crew.

“I’m fine!” He shouts through his bloody nose, which obviously isn’t fine. “Everyone back to work, please.”

There’s a disconcerting silence as if they’re still planning on how to kill you in every way possible, but they eventually turn back to their work cleaning the cannons and securing the sheets. Mingi turns back to you.

“This way.” He says gruffly, pulling you up another flight of stairs, Seonghwa at the rear. You bite back another whimper of pain, but Seonghwa hears it.

On the quarter deck, you catch sight of a man at the wheel. He’s young, almost your age, dressed all in red with patchwork black pants. His ash blonde hair falls into his eyes and the back is done in a neat mullet. But the most eye catching thing about him is the black eye patch he has over his right eye, the confidence he stands with despite his age and how he’s steering the ship as if the oceans bow at his feet.

Something in him calls out to you.

“Hongjoong- _ah_ , we found a stowaway in the cargo hold.” Seonghwa calls over you shoulder as Mingi forces you to your knees. The man at the wheel doesn’t take his eye off the sea for a moment, pulling a length of rope from around his waist and lashing the wheel in position. Only then does he turn around.

“Mingi, take the helm- What happened to you, Mingi?” The helmsman’s voice is almost an entire octave higher than Mingi’s, almost too cute to be a pirate’s. His eyes rake over the bloody nose on Mingi’s face, before his expression settles into a frown.

“Got headbutted by our stowaway here.” Mingi jerks a thumb at your face and Hongjoong’s one eye follows it down, coming to rest on you. His fingers dance on the hilt of one of the two cutlasses hanging at his hip.

You gulp. “I said I was sorry.” You mutter under your breath.

Hongjoong’s eye drills into you, a calm, unbothered smile on his face that terrifies you more than if he were furious. “Well, I guess I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?” The side of his lips pull up in a smirk. “This ship is the Treasure and we’re the pirate band ATEEZ. I’m Kim Hongjoong, the helmsman and captain of this ship.”

At that, your mouth falls open. This man can’t be any more than twenty two, but he’s the captain? Hongjoong nods at the dumbstruck expression on your face, the chilling smile never leaving his face. “What about you, Royal Navy scum?”

Seonghwa and Mingi’s expressions change to shock in seconds and Seonghwa even begins to draw that wicked long kitchen knife from his belt.

You pause at that. “Royal Navy?” Your lips pull downwards in a frown. What is the Royal Navy?

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Hongjoong’s not smiling now and you feel the air drop several degrees. Your teeth want to start chattering but you force a terrified smile on your face. Hongjoong’s eyebrows lower into a frown.

“The coat you are wearing is of Royal Navy make. An officer’s, I might add. It may be beaten and torn up, but I’d recognize that rose insignia anywhere.” He jerks his chin at the red patches on the shoulders. Sure enough, you can see the rose stitched into the fabric. “So what is your purpose here? If you answer truthfully I might simply shoot you instead of having you flogged to death.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

Goosebumps race along your skin and you know that your face has drained of colour. You don’t even remember your own name, how are you supposed to remember where you got this stupid coat? So you start rambling.

“Okay actually I just woke up this morning in the prison of the town you guys just looted like a while ago and I kind of don’t remember how I got there so like they were talking about bringing me to the gallows for some kind of public hanging and I don’t really know why they wanted to hang me so when you attacked I just tried to escape and ended up in the harbor so I ran up the first ship I saw which was your ship and tried to get away from the fighting so I went into the cargo hold and fell asleep there so yeah.”

There’s a pause.

“What?” Mingi blinks. You open your mouth to repeat it when Hongjoong holds up a hand. You close your mouth with a clop.

“Seonghwa, go help San take care of the wounded.” He orders and Mingi stiffens as if they’ve breached some kind of taboo conversation topic. The other man visibly relaxes and exhales shakily, nodding. “Yes, captain.” Then he turns around and makes his way down to the main deck.

Hongjoong turns back to you with a calm gaze. “So, according to you, you can’t remember why they would throw a Royal navy officer such as yourself into prison?”

“I’m not a Royal Navy officer.” You retort with a scowl, meeting his gaze angrily. When he raises an eyebrow, you catch yourself, swallow and lower your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Well this is certainly the most interesting story we’ve heard from a captured Royal Navy officer, haven’t we, Mingi?” Hongjoong muses to himself, running his tongue across his lips. Mingi nods apathetically.

“He’s also the youngest.” The quartermaster adds on to the back unhelpfully.

“Tell me, what exactly did you intend to do after escaping onto my ship?” He leans back with a smile, as if expecting some silly answer. You don’t have any smart ones, so you answer honestly.

“I really wasn’t thinking that far.”

Sighing dramatically at your lackluster answer, Hongjoong nods again. His one eye is a vivid green, like a poisonous snake’s that could sink its fangs into you at any moment. He seems to be contemplating something. Then he lifts your chin with a finger so that you meet his eyes even as you try to squirm away.

“Well then, Mr I’m-Not- A-Royal-Navy-Officer.” The young captain wears that same chilling smile again, and it doesn’t make you feel any better. “How about this? We’ll tie you to the mainmast so everyone can keep watch over you and we’ll feed you enough to survive, but the moment we stop at Tortuga, I’m tossing you onto shore. If I find out that you’re one of the Royal Navy swine at any moment…”

There’s a click and suddenly there’s a musket pointed at your temple. Your body seizes up in rapid panic, blood freezing over in your veins. You hadn’t even seen him move.

“I’ll gut you like a stuck pig.” His voice is warm and smooth, right next to your ear. You don’t even realize you’re trembling until he steps back, holstering the musket in his belt with an amused smile on his face. “I’d shoot you for breaking Mingi’s nose like that, but I suppose that it won’t matter if I’m going to kill you in the end anyway. Mingi, secure the boy to the mainmast and make sure not a single man on board touches him, then get San to look at your nose.”

“I got it.” Mingi sounds almost annoyed at being babied with the repeated advice, but Hongjoong just laughs.

“I’m interested to see how long you can keep this facade up, pretty boy. Don’t worry about anything.” Hongjoong’s grin is terrifying, wild like the raging sea as he strides back to the wheel, boots clicking on the deck.

“When it finally breaks, I’ll be the one to end it all for you.”

That’s the last thing you hear before Mingi marches you down to the main deck.

You’re still freezing from the chilling encounter with the young pirate captain as Mingi pushes you towards the main mast. Even the pain in your ankle doesn’t seem to compare with the numbing terror of Hongjoong’s threat. You slump in shock against the main mast as Mingi looks upwards into the rigging.

“Yunho-ah, toss me some rope!”

Seconds later, a coil of rope slithers down the mast and Mingi wraps it around your upper torso securing your arms and torso to the mast. It’s loose enough not to cut off the circulation in your arms, but tight enough to ensure you won’t be going anywhere. And honestly, where can you go? As far as the eye can see, it’s all ocean.

You thought that escaping the gallows had been a smart move. Now it seems like you threw yourself from the frying pan into the flames.

Go home, the voice in your head whispers. You tell it to shut up savagely.

Mingi finally announces to everyone that they are not to make eye contact with you, speak to you, or have any form of interaction with you as he finishes off with several skillful knots at the back.

“That includes physical contact like beating or throwing things at him.” Mingi adds on and there’s a collective sigh of disappointment from the crew.

“You sure, quartermaster?” One of the men at the cannons pulls out his musket. “An eye for an eye, he did make you bleed!”

The rest of the crew shouts agreement, but Mingi shakes his head firmly.

“We’re pirates, not barbarians.” He chides, wiping his nose once more. The blood flow seems to have slowed to a steady trickle at least. “It’s my fault for being unprepared. Besides, these are Hongjoong’s orders. Any of you want to answer to captain?”

“Absolutely not!” The crewman declares and the deck breaks out in carefree laughter. Mingi gives a tiny smile as he straightens up from tying your bonds.

Something in your chest tugs painfully.

“Well then, don’t get me into trouble with captain.” He waves them back to their work and they do so cheerfully, all the tension in the air gone. Then Mingi turns back to you with a stern scowl.

“From what you can see, the crew isn’t exactly happy with you.” He gestures at the deck with one of his long arms. “I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to make it to Tortuga alive.”

And then he turns and leaves you alone with your thoughts, a lonely stranger on a foreign ship.


	3. Collapse

The first three days pass as uneventfully as the sea you are sailing on. Every three hours or so, the man who you now know to the quartermaster, Mingi, unties the ropes around your arms and allows you to take a short walk around the deck to stretch your limbs. You appreciate the thought, but you feel like a piece of meat in a sea of piranhas. Your ankle screams in pain every time you step on it, but you force your mouth shut. It’s definitely twisted, but you can’t afford to show weakness now. It throbs red and has swollen to twice its normal size, so you hide it with the hem of your trousers and pray that no one sees it.

What makes you even more worried than the twisted ankle is the musket wound on your arm. Even though the bleeding has scabbed over, much to your relief, the flesh around it is swollen and the surrounding skin is tight, angry red. Yellow pus is oozing from the wound and even though you’ve tried to wipe it away as discreetly as possible with your meager water rations, the area feels tender and you feel your lips cracking faster than what should be normal. Your vision of the horizon sometimes splits into two and your head swims, but you cover the wound with the coat the best you can and will the pain away.

Thrice, Mingi has caught you stumbling, but he obviously thinks you’re simply unused to being on a seagoing vessel or that you simply haven’t had the chance to stand in a long time. Lucky for you, he doesn’t suspect a thing.

Who knows what they might do to you if they see any sign of frailty?

Even after Mingi has explicitly instructed no one to harm you, the crew obviously hold a very deep grudge against you for the broken nose you gave their quartermaster. Their faces sour whenever you so much as glance in their direction and some even flash bared teeth at you. When Mingi deems that you’ve taken enough of a walk, he ties you back to the main mast, and the next three hours are spent gazing at the endless stretch of sea, wondering when is the next time Mingi will return.

Seonghwa, the cook, comes to feed you every meal. He is kind at heart, you can see, when he does not strip away your dignity by offering to feed you, instead undoing your bonds and allowing you to feed yourself with a spoon. His voice is soft and polite, if a little guarded, and his hands warm and gentle. While you eat, he moves among the crewmen and distributes food and rum, listens to their troubles and rowdy jokes, laughs along with them and they’re so happy together it makes your chest ache.

You can’t join them. The voyage is long and your dizzy spells are getting longer, but you can’t give up now.

Meanwhile, you watch the crew at work.

The captain is rarely on deck. If he has orders to relay, his quartermaster and first mate does it for him, not that you mind (the sight of him terrifies you). You take the time to notice their little nuances, what they do on board.

Anything to distract you from your missing memories and the mounting pain your body is in.

The deck is never really empty, so at least you have a constant source of entertainment and distraction. They seem to still be recovering from the aftermath of their raid of the town, some pirates carrying out their duties with bandages tied over their arms or legs. They perform lighter duties, such as cleaning out the cannon barrels and sifting the gunpowder into bags, while their brethren pack heavy cannonshot and heave on the sails. At times, the lookout descends from his perch in the crow’s nest to lead them into a silly jig or song.

You recognise him.

Tall and lean with a mop of soft brown curls that match his lively, vibrant eyes, his smile is infectious, irresistible, almost. There’s a childlike nature to him, in the playful way he messes with the crew and they can only give him fond smiles, joking alongside him and teasing him back.

Yunho, you hear his name is.

He’s the one who met your eyes back in the town as you were fleeing to the harbor, the one with the massive oak spear in his hand. He mainly stays in the rigging, only coming down to stretch his legs and make conversation with the rest of the crew, but you feel his curious eyes on you even when he’s in his usual spot in the crow’s nest. You wish he would talk to you, that anyone would acknowledge your presence, but he has orders from his captain. No one would be foolish enough to disobey Hongjoong.

On the third evening, it rains.

When the first drops land on your cheeks, you immediately turn your face up to catch the precipitation falling from the sky. They feel so good against your burning cheeks, sliding down your body and dampening your clothes. You might just be having another dizzy spell again, but you swear you see the raindrops turn to steam after they touch your bare skin.

It’s not storming yet, even though the waves are slightly more choppy than usual. Seonghwa glances up at the rain in the middle of dinner and frowns, getting to his feet. From the quarterdeck you hear Mingi shout.

“Men, to sails! We’re heading to shore!”

There’s an unhappy mumbling as the crew drain the last drops of rum and shove the remaining scraps of salted fish into their mouths, but they rise to their feet and take their stations quickly. You hear a long, drawn out creak of wood as the water pushing against the rudder forces the ship to the left, heading towards a small cove in the stretch of sandy beach they have been travelling along since dawn broke this morning. The rocky cliffs will provide protection from the coming storm and the colour of the water is a deep blue, indicating that the cove is deep enough for the ship to lower the anchor without fear of getting beached.

The opening into the cove is a little narrow but the captain seems unfazed, steering the ship straight into the cove without fear or hesitation. The Treasure glides smoothly into the little cove, and Mingi relays his next orders.

“Furl the sails and drop the anchor!” You catch sight of the quartermaster descending the stairs of the quarterdeck. His nose is looking better already, but he wears a wooden splint on his nose bridge to realign the cartilage. “We have a free night of rest today, crew.”

There are cheers echoing all about you. When docked in a small cove such as this one, the constant pitching and rolling of the ship has slowed to a gentle rock, making it much easier for the crew to get deep, uninterrupted sleep below deck. It’s no wonder that they are overjoyed… but you’ll be left alone on the main deck.

The men secure the sails, coiling excess sheets and shrouds before bundling them with heavy wooden cleats. The yardarms on the three masts are lowered and the ship finally slows to a stop, bobbing up and down on the waves.

And not a moment too late, because all of a sudden, the sky splits open and a torrential storm strikes. For a moment, you wonder if you can drown from the amount of rainwater falling, the droplets the size of beans and the wind howls past your ear. You curl into yourself, grateful to the thick ropes that are keeping you warm but wishing you had something to cover your freezing feet. Once again, as if the heavens have heard you, Seonghwa approaches you with a piece of heavy sacking.

“Here.” Is the first word someone has said to you since Mingi tied you to the mast, and his hands are warm and impossibly gentle against you as he tucks the thick, coarse sacking around your shoulders and feet. You manage not to flinch as his fingers brush your ankle, and he straightens up with a frown on his face.

Please don’t leave me alone, you want to say.

He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, Seonghwa turns and strides away, following the rest of the crew who are descending below deck into the bunks. There’s a final thunk as the hatch slams closed with a resounding finality, and then you’re all alone.

It’s dark on the deck. The only light comes from behind you, where the captain’s cabin is located beneath the quarterdeck. It barely reaches you, faint and wavering, and the rain limits your visibility to just a few feet in front of you.

Seonghwa stops at the captain’s cabin for a moment, staring back in your direction, teeth worrying his bottom lip. While he’s lost in thought for a moment, the door swings open and someone pulls him inside.

“Dry yourself off.” Their navigator, Yeosang, passes him a towel, eyes soft and worried. “You don’t want to fall ill.”

“Thank you.” Seonghwa replies, ruffling his hair dry. The slightly built man returns to study the maps on the table in the middle of the cabin.

“If the storm stops by tomorrow afternoon, we’ll be able to reach Tortuga in another few days or so.” He declares, poring over the navigational maps. “But we should be careful, Hongjoong-hyung, the Royal Navy might ambush us the closer we get to the port.”

Seonghwa turns to see his captain lying back and swinging side to side in his hammock, strung up in the corner of the cabin next to an eyehole overlooking the ocean outside. But there’s nothing to be seen, it’s completely dark out there.

“I’m well aware of that.” Hongjoong replies, absentmindedly tossing one of his daggers in hand. Seonghwa bites back a fond smile.

“Captain, if you keep up that bad habit you might lose your fingers.” He chides and Hongjoong snorts in amusement, finally sitting up in the hammock to look straight at Seonghwa.

“And you need to stop calling me captain when we’re in close company, or I might use my authority to order you to.”

Yeosang lets out a chuckle as he jots down a few notes down in his rutter. “The two of you never change. Seonghwa-hyung, you should go to sleep and get as well rested as you can. It’s straight sailing for the next three days or so.”

At that Seonghwa pauses. He opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Hongjoong.

“Speak your mind, Seonghwa.” His captain’s gaze is serious and unwavering as the first day he met him. “You know I will not ignore what you say.”

At that, Seonghwa relaxes slightly. They’ve been a crew, a family for years, but Seonghwa still has worries about how Hongjoong might react to certain things. Especially the one he’s about to bring up.

“The prisoner we have on board…” He begins, and Yeosang makes a noise of recognition.

“Ah yes, the stowaway you found in the cargo hold who broke Mingi’s nose.” He comments as he starts to roll up the maps once more, stowing them in their tubes. “I’ve been charting our course for the next few days, so I haven’t seen him yet. Did he cause some kind of trouble?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t. In fact, he’s been surprisingly well behaved. There’s no rebellious behaviour in him, he doesn’t react to the crew antagonizing him, and he lets himself be tied up without a fight. He hasn’t even asked for more water or anything to cover himself with at night. Yunho says he remains quiet at all times and doesn’t speak a word.”

He remembers when he put the sackcloth around him earlier, how small and thin the young boy was, how sallow his cheeks were. But his eyes were sad, so sad and mournful, just like Wooyoung’s when he had first stepped aboard this ship trailing chains onto the deck. Eyes that had known only loneliness their whole lives.

A dark shadow flashes across his captain’s face.

“Might be a ploy to get us to lower our guard.” Hongjoong replies, his voice firm but Seonghwa can hear the mistrust in his words. “Things might be different the second we get close to Tortuga and he has a chance to escape.”

“I know.” Seonghwa swallows uncomfortably and exhales. “But didn’t he already mention that he can’t remember why he was at Raguza?” Raguza was the town they had raided just three days before.

“If that story was supposed to win my favor, it was sorely lacking.” Hongjoong leans back in his hammock, resuming fidgeting with his knife. His eye is dark, expression cold. “How unlucky can a person be, waking up without any recollection of how he came to be dressed in a Royal Navy coat, bound for the gallows when he should be an officer of high prestige and managing to escape onto the one ship in the harbor whose captain bears the most hatred towards the Royal Navy?”

“Him?” Seonghwa offers weakly, but Hongjoong gives him an exasperated glance and he shakes his head. “Your hatred towards the Navy might be clouding your judgement.”

“And your kindness yours.” His captain retorts, but there’s no real bite behind it. “If he does turn out to be a Royal Navy officer who thought this would be an opportune time to steal back their maps and escape at Tortuga, his suffering will be a lot worse than merely being tied to a mast.”

“But you cannot deny that there is a chance that he might be telling the truth.” Yeosang pipes up from shelving the very maps they were talking about, glancing at the two of them. When they don’t speak, he continues. “Temporary short term amnesia is a common symptom among those who have suffered blunt head injuries and the Royal Navy doesn’t treat its prisoners kindly.”

There’s a thoughtful pause, then Hongjoong laughs.

“Always the voice of reason, Yeosang-ie.” The captain sighs in amusement, shaking his head. “You’ve been spending too much time listening to San ramble on.”

Yeosang chuckles, but doesn’t deny it.

“I’ll think about it, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong reassures the cook, who reluctantly nods his head. “You should go to sleep. Worry about your own health instead of our stowaway’s.”

That’s the most Seonghwa can do for the prisoner. “I trust you, captain. Goodnight, the two of you.”

Seonghwa turns to leave, and Hongjoong calls after him jokingly.

“Call me Hongjoong!”

Seonghwa steps out of the cabin with a chuckle. Yeosang pulls off his boots and lies down on the bed, putting his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. Maybe he should take a look at the new prisoner soon.

He sees Hongjoong stand at the door that Seonghwa has just left, one eye staring out of the glass window onto the deck, where the prisoner is.

Yeosang gives a knowing smile and closes his eyes.

Your body slackens all at once. For three days, you’ve been hiding the throbbing tenderness of the wound on your shoulder, the agonizing pain in your ankle and the pounding in your head. You feel as if someone is knocking you repeatedly on the inside of your skull with a heavy stick, and all at once your stomach heaves.

You bite your cracked lips and force the food down. No, you can’t throw up. That is the only form of sustenance you have to last you, and the captain will surely be displeased if he catches you puking over his deck. Luckily, the nausea subsides and you rest the back of your head against the solid wood of the main mast.

It’s cold and hot all at once. Your body burns impossibly hot and your tongue is heavy, as if you haven’t drank a mouthful of water for weeks. But it’s cold, so frighteningly cold, ice creeping up your veins and the once comforting feeling of rainwater on your body is like torture. You burrow beneath the wet sackcloth, the only barrier between you and the elements, and let out a tiny whimper.

There’s no one here to see you break down. You are alone, you’re in pain, your memories are lost. You’re on a hostile pirate ship and even if they don’t kill you on suspicion of being a officer of the Royal Navy, what will you do once you reach Tortuga? You have nowhere to turn, no one to help you. You are alone all over again.

A tiny sob leaves your throat and you hiccup, pressing closer against the main mast. You try again, try to remember something, anything, but all you see is a sheet of white, the sound of ocean waves in your ears. Then pain lances down your head and the back of your neck and you give up your attempt on trying to remember. Remembering is about as easy as trying to catch smoke.

Before you can catch them, tears slip down your face and you bow your head, trying to hide it. But you can’t. It spills out of you again and again in waves of soft sobs and muffled whimpers, wracking your body.

The world sways beneath you. Is the sea getting too choppy? Will the waves rise over the sides of the ship? Are you going to die, here, before any life you have truly begins?

I will be with you every step of the way.

Your eyes finally fall shut, unable to bear the weight of the pain you carry.

But you don’t hear the footsteps behind you.

Hongjoong steps forward, unflinching against the rain that pelts his body and the wind that bites at his skin. He walks around the main mast, to where Mingi has tied you up.

He observes you silently. You’re small, compared to even him, tucked up in sackcloth and held upright only by the ropes that bind you to the mast. He doesn’t bother checking the knots, Mingi is more than capable of doing a perfect job.

Your eyes are closed, head lolling forward slightly, mouth a little ajar. You look so peaceful, so harmless that Hongjoong can almost bring himself to believe your story, but then he catches himself.

No. All too easy to fool him into letting his guard down around one of the Royal Navy. Looks are deceiving. You may seem harmless, but even the most adorable of animals have fangs.

The howling wind pulls away the corner of the sackcloth that was tucked behind your shoulder and you shiver in your sleep, curling up on yourself. Hongjoong frowns, and before he can stop himself, reaches out a hand to put it back.

And immediately jerks his hand away.

Hot. You’re boiling hot. You should be freezing cold from the rain, he was intending to allow you a warm bed the next day if you just told him the truth about your identity. He touches your neck once more and feels as if he’s just placed a hand on one of Seonghwa’s pots right after cooking.

He tears the sackcloth away from you with deft hands, noting how dry and cracked your lips are even though he’s instructed Seonghwa to give you water rations equal of that to the crew. His eye scans your body for any sign of what could be causing this, when he sees a bloody patch right beneath the rose emblem of the Royal Navy. He pauses in his tracks.

Does he really care if one of the Royal Navy lives or dies?

“But you cannot deny that there is a chance that he might be telling the truth.”

Hongjoong grunts at his indecisiveness. If you’re a Royal Navy officer, he can always kill you later. Focusing on the task at hand, he tugs the coat from your shoulder, revealing your black undershirt and an ugly gash on your upper arm. The skin around it is obviously swollen and thick, yellow pus is still oozing from the wound, but what is the most worrying are the tiny, red streaks he sees moving up from the wound.

It’s infection. He doesn’t even need San to tell him that. And from the distance the streaks have moved, it’s been infected the day you were tied up on board. A scowl tugs on his lips.

And you said nothing?

He hates that he admires your grit for one so young. Shaking the damp hair out of his eye, he raises a hand and lightly slaps the side of your face.

“Oi, officer, wake up.”

You groan a little, eyebrows furrowing, but by the slack muscles of your arms and legs, you’re as dead to the world as Yunho. Hongjoong curses under his breath and moves to the knots, undoing them with practiced ease. The ropes loosen and there’s a thump as you collapse to the deck in a heap. Hongjoong grabs you from under the shoulders.

“Get up, will you?” He mutters under his breath, supporting all your weight on your feet so he can drag you to the sickbay, but you let out a cry of agony and bury your face in the crook of his neck, much to his shock. He jumps at the contact and almost drops you, but catches you at the last moment, a longer, more vulgar curse leaving his lips when he catches sight of your ankle.

It’s swollen.

Hongjoong groans. Is he blind? Yunho’s never going to let him live this down if he finds out about this. How did he not notice?

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

He cracks his knuckles and in one smooth motion lifts you up in his arms. You’re surprisingly light, as if you haven’t been eating enough for a few weeks already. He should get Seonghwa to cook you a hot meal after you recover.

Then he almost pulls away the hand under your shoulders to slap himself in the face. What is he saying? After you recover, it’s back to the main mast for you. He still can’t trust you, even if he grudgingly admires that you’re as tough as his crew members despite being the smallest person on board.

Why did you have to pick his ship?

Shaking away his thoughts, he turns towards to sickbay, feet thudding on wood as he sprints across the deck. Your breathing is shaky and uneven against his throat, and he grunts as he stops in front of the wooden door next to his cabin.

He raises a booted foot to kick on the door as hard as he can.

“San!


	4. The Healer

You’re sitting at a tiny cove.

Your legs swing along the rocky ledge of the cliff you are on, dangling into the water. Beneath you, the water sparkles like liquid emeralds. Bright, colorful fish dart here and there around your feet and you laugh.

You leap down and there’s a splash, you’re waist deep in water. You move forward and forward until you’ve reached the mouth of the cove and the water comes up to your chin.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and submerge yourself.

Something soft and gentle brushes its way along your arms and you giggle underwater, bubbles escaping your mouth, but it’s of no concern to you. The soft arms caress you gently, as if you’re a precious treasure to them. You open your eyes.

Something stares back at you, glowing the colour of blood. It’s massive, almost twice your size, radiating some sort of curious light in the middle of the dark mass it’s in. Then it hits you.

It’s a single, unblinking eye.

You jerk awake with cold sweat running down your back and immediately regret it as you feel your head split in half from a sharp throbbing in your head. You groan, keeping your eyes tightly shut as you cradle your head in your hands, waiting for the pain to subside.

Something tugs lightly at your shoulder. No, not rope. Cloth? You start to panic when you realize that you are no longer tied to the mast.

Are they intending to kill you now?

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Your eyes fly open and you immediately shy away from the voice, pressing against the wall next to you. Your legs instinctively curl up to your body and you let out a cry of pain as your ankle knocks into wood.

“Don’t move, idiot.”

You look up to see the man talking to you. He’s tall and lightly built, dressed in a simple, oversized tunic and knee length shorts. Around his neck are a few silver chains, with strange symbols you don’t recognise, and his hair is a soft grey-green. Everything about him throws you off, he feels soft and reserved, nothing like a pirate.

Then you see the short dagger strapped to his left thigh.

You press against the wall more tightly, turning your face away from him. If he’s going to kill you, it might be more bearable if you can’t see it coming. You feel the tiny rocking of ocean waves.

“My name is Choi San, but you can just call me San.” The man begins to introduce himself, seating himself in a chair opposite you. You’re in a bed, you realize, as he continues to speak. “I’m the healer on board the Treasure, so I was responsible for treating your wounds. It’s admirable how you managed to keep quiet about a badly twisted ankle, an infected musket wound and a raging fever all at once.” There’s something unsaid left in his voice.

You swallow.

“Especially for a woman.”

You freeze, all movement ceasing in a single second. Your hands unconsciously move up to your chest, only to find it unbound underneath a couple of layers of fabric.

Oh shit.

You’re definitely going to be shark food now.

“I haven’t told Hongjoong yet, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Your head whips around to stare at him in shock. His expression hasn’t changed the least, he still wears the same unreadable, blank face and you can’t tell whether he’s joking or he’s being serious. He has no reason not to report to the captain his findings, so why?

“It’s not my business that Hongjoong-ie is so blind he can’t tell the difference.” The healer leans back in a sturdy wooden chair, steepling his fingers with a calm gaze. You can’t tell whether that is comforting or terrifying. “Besides, I have a cat’s nature and I find my curiosity difficult to satisfy. So, if your story entertains me enough, I may keep your little secret from the captain. But I can see that you’re bursting to ask questions, so ask away.”

“Who undressed me?” Are the first words that tumble from your mouth. San chuckles at your question.

“Me.”

You groan in embarrassment and hide your face in your hands, unable to face him anymore. He snickers in amusement, and even though you can’t see it, his smile dimples his cheeks.

“No need to feel shy.” The man remarks, even though you can hear the mirth lingering in his voice. “I didn’t look. I just changed your bandages daily for the last two days.”

“I’ve been asleep for two days? That doesn’t make it any better.” Your words are muffled behind your fingers and you know your cheeks are tinged pink. “It’s still embarrassing.”

“I had to check you over for injuries.” San explains logically as you peer at him between the cracks in your fingers. “Who knows what else you might be hiding? I cleaned your wounds with salt water solution and bandaged you. As for your ankle, I splinted it with driftwood but don’t expect to walk normally for the next five to ten days or so.”

You gulp. Five days is more than you can afford.

“Is the captain going to throw me overboard?”

“As if I’d let him.” San’s complete indifference to Hongjoong’s authority surprises you, but you suppose even the captain needs to be on a healer’s good side in case he ever gets injured. This explains the sizable room and bed for the healer. Still, the informal way he addresses his captain is a little shocking. “He’s not going to waste all that effort I put into treating you. I used the last of my marigold petal antiseptic on your arm and he’d better get me more at Tortuga.”

You manage to stifle the tiny giggle that leaves your mouth, but San hears it anyways. He smiles slightly. “So, what’s your name?”

You pause, then answer as truthfully as possible.

“I don’t remember.”

To your surprise, San doesn’t try to call you a liar or force you to tell him some other answer. Instead he ponders your words carefully.

“That’s a common symptom among those who have head injuries. I was just telling Yeosang about them a few days ago.” You don’t know who Yeosang is, but you nod in understanding. You’re a little relieved that he seems to believe you, but is this a ploy to make you lower your guard? “They’re short term, but the memories usually come back after a few days or weeks. I don’t think I’ve met many who’ve forgotten their own identities though. Those usually die a few days after.”

“What?” You choke and suddenly you start coughing, your throat dry and scratchy. San reaches for a mug you hadn’t noticed before on his desk and passes it to you, filled with a fragrant green tinted liquid you don’t recognize. You can’t hide your suspicious look.

“It’s jasmine green tea.” San explains as he sits down again. “It’s helps calm the nerves and is also a fantastic cleaning solution for wounds as it prevents infection, but I prefer drinking it. My shipmates would rather ingest grog.” He sniffs in distaste and shakes his head. “Hongjoong knows what’s good for him, though. We’ve stayed in the cove for a couple days more because some of the scouting parties found tea leaves growing on one of the hills nearby. The rest are hunting deer with Shiber so we can have fresh venison tonight. It makes a nice change from eating preserved food all the time.”

As he continues to ramble about how some of the crew have started setting out nets to catch some fresh fish, you take a sip of the tea. It’s a little bitter with a warm, grassy flavor. You don’t enjoy it very much, but the next available option, grog, sounds even more unpalatable, so you choose to down the whole mug.

San pauses in his talking to nod his approval. “You’re a smart one. Anyway, as I was saying, the men usually die soon, but that’s because of internal bleeding in the skull. I found blood clots when I cut their heads open.”

You almost spit out the tea. “You cut their what open?”

The healer shrugs. “They’re already dead, so they don’t feel a thing.” When you continue to give him dubious, horrified looks, he starts to explain. “It’s for medical research! What I’m trying to say is, they don’t die because they lose their memories, they die because of the wound that caused them to lose their memories. From what I can see, you don’t have any such wound.”

“That’s reassuring.” You manage to say, thumping your chest. San nods.

“Captain said you claimed to have woken up in a prison cell in Raguza, am I correct?” He asks and you nod. San seems like a kind person and is the only one who is willing to help you. Then you pause.

“Raguza?” You repeat, unfamiliar with the name. San dismisses it with a wave.

“The town we raided a few days ago.” He explains, before carrying on. “He also said that you claimed to have no memory of how you came to be wearing the coat of a Royal Navy officer.”

You nod hesitantly. Even you’re aware of how unbelievable your story sounds. But San seems to be taking all of this in stride, better than you are, at least.

“Well, you could either be a skilled liar, insane, or telling the truth.”

You open your mouth to protest that nothing that has come out of your mouth has been a lie so far, but he holds up a hand to stop you. Your mouth closes with an audible clop.

“If you are a liar and are simply a spy of the Royal Navy here to steal the navigational maps, you must be a terrible one to present such a ridiculous story.” You try to protest again, but he continues. “From what I gather of my conversation with you, you are too sound of mind to be mad. So that only leaves me with one option. You are telling the truth.”

Just like that?

Something in you breaks down in relief and your shoulders sag. You’ve known that the whole time, that you’ve been telling the truth, that you have no memories. But suddenly, you’re not alone. Now, somebody believes you.

Someone understands.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until San reaches forward to brush the tears from your eyes. His fingers are gentle and warm, like Seonghwa’s hands. Then you start.

“Did Seonghwa bring me here? Where are we?” You look around the room you are in. You’re sitting on one of the two small beds in the cramped cabin, the shelves along the walls overflowing with written text, books and boxes with messily scribbled labels. There’s a small wooden table in the middle, a stack of paper in danger of falling off the side, and several stalks of dried plants on its surface. Opposite you is a wooden door.

“We’re in my cabin. You’re currently in Seonghwa’s bed. He offered to bed down with the rest of the crew until you recover.” San hesitates. “As for who brought you here… he asked not to be mentioned. It wasn’t Seonghwa.”

A frown tugs at your lips. Besides the kindly cook, who else would take any sympathy on you to come drag you here in the middle of a rainstorm? San shakes his head and gets to his feet.

“Don’t think too much about it.” Before you can protest, he moves over to the table and retrieves a small wooden box, opening its clasp. “Anyway, I was intending on returning this to you once you woke up.”

A thin, silver chain dangles from his fingers, at the end of which is a tiny, clear cut crystal. Small, delicately wrought silver leaves hold the crystal in place, and your mouth falls open in awe as San presses it into your hand. A kaleidoscope of reflected colors fall on your palm.

“It’s beautiful.” You breathe, lifting your hand to inspect the gem. San’s head cocks to the side in confusion.

“That is not the response I was hoping for, considering that I took it from your neck when I was undressing you.” He frowns, and your eyes widen in surprise.

“From me? As in, it was around my neck the whole time and I didn’t notice it?” You babble and San nods. He taps the largest silver leaf with a finger.

“Look at this carefully.”

There’s an inscription in the lid, beneath a carving of an elaborate swirl. You squint to make out the minuscule words.

I will be with you every step of the way.

You pause in shock at the revelation.

From before you lost your memories, from before you came to be in that tiny prison cell, you were not alone. If you just find the person who gave you this, you’ll know who you were before.

“You should keep it with you.” Gently, San takes the necklace from your hands and clasps it behind your neck. You’re silent in wonder, fingering the tiny crystal that nestles in the center of your chest. “Now, I should really go check on Wooyoung’s arm before he starts whining again.” He rises to his feet. “Do you have any last questions?”

“Is the captain really not going to throw me overboard?” You manage, gripping the tiny crystal in hand. At this, San really laughs.

“No. Although he did burn the Royal Navy coat you were wearing and tossed the ashes into the sea.” The healer replies as he plucks a small jar of ointment from a shelf. “If you give him no reason to kill you, he won’t.”

“Being alive seems to be reason enough to him.” You mutter unhappily under your breath, tucking yourself under the covers once more. Your eyelids are getting heavy once again. “The captain really hates the Royal Navy, doesn’t he? Why?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see San shrug as he pulls a leather sling bag over his shoulder. “He has good reason to, but it’s not my story to tell.”

Then he crosses over to you and tucks the blankets a little more securely around you. His grey eyes are soft.

“Go to sleep. I’ll come back and tend to you later.” San’s voice is gentle and melodic, like a lullaby.

You close your eyes, still clasping the small crystal in your hand. “Okay.” You murmur in reply, pulling the blanket closer around you. “Just for a while more, then.”

You don’t wake up till a day later.


	5. Sea Monster

“You need to eat.”

Seonghwa nudges a bowl of fish stew towards you. It’s piping hot and steaming, you cradle it gratefully with your fingers.

Since you’ve woken up in San’s cabin a few days ago, you’ve taken a few days under the Treasure’s healer’s care to recover from the fever brought on by your infection. San has been nothing but kind to you, even allowing you to sit in the sickbay and watch him while he tends to patients.

Many of the pirates come in and out for check ups on previous wounds, a healing sword gash, an amputated finger. You watch the healer bustle about at work, speaking in a soft, quiet tone when tending to them and making silly jokes to distract them from the pain. His dimpled smile and silly behaviour is somewhat familiar to you now, you can even recognise his whistling from the cabin. Maybe it’s because he is the only person you have on this ship, so you stick to San’s side as much as possible.

The Treasure has already left the cove, sailing out into the open sea once more. San tells you that they are sailing along the coast of Hispaniola to reach Tortuga, but these waters are close to the pirate town Tortuga and the Royal Navy fleets patrol the area to sink any unsuspecting pirates. Their captain has chosen to stay further from land, where the Navy’s fleets can conceal themselves from sight and carry out an ambush on them.

When San brought you onto the main deck the last few days so you could stretch your limbs and breathe some fresh air, all you’ve seen for miles is blue, unending ocean. Being able to walk freely on deck with San’s conversation instead of Mingi’s watchful eye is one of your few joys on this ship.

Today, however, San wants Seonghwa to bring you onto deck.

Your chest is bound, of course, and San swears that no one else on board besides him knows that you are a woman. Women are considered bad luck on ships, and even though San has reassured you that Hongjoong doesn’t believe in silly superstitions, you’d rather not give him another reason to toss you to the sharks. San has agreed to keep your secret, but still, with Seonghwa supporting you, he might notice something.

“Seonghwa’s smart, but when it comes to stuff like this, he can be pretty blind. Don’t worry about it too much.” San had told you in the morning. You decide to trust him on this.

So you take the fish stew in your hands and drink it. You were surprised at first, you thought pirates would have terrible cooking skills, but Seonghwa’s food has always been rich, hearty and filling. With his intense stare on you as you eat, however, you find it difficult to swallow the food.

“Is there something you need?” You ask after narrowly avoiding choking for the third time. Seonghwa’s expression is unreadable, unnerving. You don’t expect anything good to leave his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

At that, you do choke and Seonghwa immediately panics, grabbing a cloth from his pocket and offering it to you. You wave it away, hacking and thumping your chest, careful to avoid where the tiny crystal rests underneath the oversized tunic San lent you.

“What for?” You cough as you set down the bowl, reaching for a mug of green tea on the table. As much as you disliked the drink at first, after being force fed it by San so many times, you’ve come to enjoy its mild, earthy flavour. Seonghwa inhales deeply, as if preparing to say something life altering.

“I’d like to apologize for not noticing your wound sooner.” He bows his head in genuine apology, much to your shock. “I should have realised that you were injured and reported it to Hongjoong earlier. If I did, you wouldn’t have fallen ill-”

You’re so dumbstruck that you simply stare at him with your mouth hanging wide open. Yeah, he didn’t notice, but it wasn’t his fault at all. Even if he had noticed, and hadn’t done anything to help you, you couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t obligated to help you in any way.

“It’s alright.” You try to cover up your confusion by taking another spoonful of fish stew. “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“I wanted to make it up to you, so will you allow me to walk you around deck today? I saw San helping you and thought I might be able to assist in the same way.”

What on earth is wrong with this man? He owes you nothing. How can anyone be so… kind? You were literally nothing more than a stowaway he found on ship, not someone he needed to repay a debt to. But from the determined glint in his eye, he wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

“Thank you, then.” You manage to reply hesitantly. It’s probably the fastest way to get this done and over with.

Draining the stew, you rise to your feet, and you see Seonghwa move to support your side. He gives you a kind smile. “Are you ready to go?”

Holy shit, this man…

“Yeah…” You clear your throat uncomfortably as he slings one of your arms around his shoulders. They’re a little broader than San’s, more muscled under his black shirt, and one of his hands come to rest on your side.

Step by step, he carefully moves you towards the door, nudging it open with his foot. The sunlight hits you in the face, and you blink rapidly to clear your sight.

“Clean the cannons properly! I don’t want to see a single speck of gunpowder on them, understood?”

“Trim the sails, wind from starboard!”

You’re bombarded with activity the moment you step onto the main deck. Pirates rush about, some cleaning out the long barrels of the cannons, some scrubbing down the deck and some mending torn sails. It’s strangely domestic, and you can’t help but snort at the image of these so called bloodthirsty pirates. Then you remember their captain and you shiver.

“Are you feeling cold?” Seonghwa’s concern unnerves you. You shake your head desperately.

“No! I just uhhh…. felt some wind!” You’re tempted to smack yourself in the face for your blatant stupidity. “Let’s continue moving, shall we?”

He brings you to the front of the ship, where you can see sea waves crashing against the ship’s wooden plants in sprays of white. For a moment, you look up and forget that you’re on a ship, all you see is the sun hovering over the horizon and blue sea rolling onwards. You close your eyes and breathe in the warm, salty air, it brings you peace.

“The Treasure is a beautiful ship, isn’t it?”

Your eyes snap open to look at him. Seonghwa has turned around to watch the crew at work on the deck, the smile on his face soft and fond. You know next to nothing about ships, but you do admit she’s very graceful with her pale blue sails and the sheer size of the ship is undoubtedly impressive. You nod.

“I think it is.”

Seonghwa smiles warmly at you then, leaning against the rails of the bulwarks with a happy, content gaze. “She’s a three masted frigate ship, a hundred and three feet long and thirty feet wide. It was one of the Royal Navy’s prides, until Hongjoong single handedly stole it from them without force and repurposed it into a pirate ship of his own.” He gestures at the other end of the ship.

“That’s called the stern. We’re at the bow. When you’re facing the bow of the ship, the right is called the starboard and the left is called port.” The cook tells you. That clears things up from you. Every time you hear someone (especially Mingi) call out ‘wind coming from port’, you think that you’re finally approaching land, but no.

“Thanks for telling me.” You tell him and he nods. You’re not sure why he’s telling you all this, but you suppose that’s his way of trying to make up for something he didn’t do.

“We’re currently on the forecastle deck, and that’s the main deck.” He points a finger at where the main activity is happening. “Above the captain’s cabin is the quarterdeck.”

“Where the captain is.” You mutter under your breath. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of it.”

You didn’t intend for Seonghwa to hear it, but he does anyway. He pauses for a moment, chewing at his bottom lip, eyes flicking between you and the quarterdeck. You start to worry if Seonghwa is unhappy that you’re almost insulting his captain, but then he speaks.

“Don’t take captain personally.” He tries to reassure you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “He does believe that you’re one of the Royal Navy, so you can’t blame him for being cautious. A few years ago, we bargained for one of the most accurate nautical charts in the navy’s possessions and the Navy has been after us ever since. Hongjoong’s worried about it, so he’s cautious of any new stranger on board. Deep down, he really is a kind person at heart.”

Seonghwa’s eyes are so pleading, as if he’s genuinely upset by the thought that you could dislike his captain. You can’t find it in yourself to outright tell him you think his captain is a menace who wouldn’t so much as bat an eyelash if you were tossed overboard this moment and got eaten by sharks. In fact, he might even find it in him to dance a little jig.

“Umm…” Is all you manage in reply. You’re such a smooth talker, you could cry. Seonghwa looks a little disappointed that you don’t believe him, but he gives you a small, understanding smile.

“It’s alright if you don’t see it now.” He says gently, turning to look at the waves with you. “I’m sure you will, eventually. That’s what happened to me too.”

You raise an eyebrow. From what you can see, Seonghwa is nothing like his captain. Even as a pirate, he’s kind hearted, gentle and compassionate. His captain, on the other hand, is exactly like the scourge of the seas.

Then you hesitate for a moment, eyes flickering over to the man beside you. He notices it before you can drop your gaze.

“Is there anything you want to ask? I don’t mind.”

You ask away.

“Do you know who brought me to the sickbay?”

Seonghwa frowns, racking his memory. “It wasn’t San? If that’s the case, I don’t have any idea either. I’m sorry I don’t have the answer to your question.”

“It’s alright.” You rush to reassure him. “Actually, I have another question. Why did you become a pirate?”

The man suddenly tenses at your question, fingertips digging into the wood of the bulwark railings until his knuckles turn white. You can see his eyes darken ever so slightly and in a single breath he looks like he’s aged a decade, barely restrained pain dancing across his face like the result of a reopened wound.

“You don’t need to answer if you feel uncomfortable.” You rush to amend. The air feels like it’s turned to ice, goosebumps racing over your skin. Seonghwa shakes his head, his tightly wound muscles slowly relaxing under his dark shirt as he eases his grip on the railing.

“No… It’s just a bad memory.” He exhales, but you can hear the lump in his throat. “I didn’t join out of choice.”

Your eyes go wide. “The captain kidnapped you?”

“No!” Seonghwa rushes to stop you, biting his lower lip. “When I was young, my family was killed on suspicion of hiding pirates by the Royal Navy.”

Ahh, the Royal Navy which you’ve heard so much about. The bane of the pirates… who you’re supposed to be.

“That’s sad.” Is all you say.

Seonghwa gives you a weak smile that doesn’t seem quite real, but continues his story anyway. “I managed to escape onto a ship in the harbour… which happened to be the Treasure.”

So it’s somewhat similar to what you’ve experienced so far. Maybe that’s why he’s been treating you more kindly than what you’d expect.

“I’ve been with Captain and the crew ever since.” Seonghwa adds seriously, but there’s a happier, content spark to his eyes. You can hear the little bounce in his voice when he speaks of the crew and the ship. They must be close.

The feeling in your chest that has been there ever since you’ve stepped aboard this ship only grows. It’s alien, unnerving. You don’t recognize it.

You turn away from Seonghwa to stare at the horizon in the distance. For some reason, every time you look at the sea, you’re immediately calmed, the storms of your heart ceasing to nothing but white noise at the back of your mind.

But this time, a small niggling feeling encroaches on your usual sense of calm.

Something cold creeps over your lungs and heart, an unexplainable anticipation and fear. It only grows bigger, more real, and for some reason, you feel like the reason of your distress is only growing closer.

Your head jerks to the left. Your eyes furiously scan the sea you are travelling upon, the dark blue that rushes underneath the ship, but you can’t see anything. Then your breath catches in your throat.

There’s a low groan. It starts off soft at first, but grows in volume gradually until the sound is ringing in your ears. It’s soul wrenching, full of anguish and so desperate like a crying child calling out for his mother that your chest throbs painfully in response to the sound.

Then you hear it.

Come back…

You almost jump in terror. The words aren’t in any language you speak, but you know their meaning clear as glass. The one behind the groan is searching for something, no… someone.

Where did you go?

Your breath suddenly shorten into pants. For another second, you’re heart wrenchingly terrified, almost as much as the time you were running for your life from the Royal Navy. Seonghwa must notice something, because he taps you on the shoulder, his face worried.

“Is something wrong?”

You stare at him in shock. “Do you not hear that noise?”

At your words, his brows furrow. “What noise?”

Why did you leave?

You almost squeak with fright, your hands clapping over your ears. “That noise!”

Seonghwa frowns in concern, reaching out to support you once again. “You must be hearing things because of your head injury.” He tries to reason with you gently, pulling you towards the sickbay. “Come on, let’s get you back to San so he can give you a check up-”

Where are you, Sǣr?

The last word is a scream, a cry of fury and distress. What is Sǣr? Then all of a sudden, you see it.

“There!” You drag Seonghwa with you by the wrist to the bow of the ship, as far as you can go, all blood draining from your face. “Look!”

He strains his eyes, peering out into the horizon and shielding his eyes from the sun. The glare reflecting off the ocean waves make it difficult to see and he doesn’t notice anything different than usual. No ship sails on the horizon, no cause for danger. When he wants to turn around and ask you what you see, you point into the water, right into the distance.

“It’s in the sea!” You shout at him, almost hysterical with fear. Why can’t he see it? “It’s coming!”

Thank the heavens for their grace because Seonghwa doesn’t call you crazy and toss you into the sickbay. He stares in the direction you direct him for a few long, agonizing seconds, before you see his eyes going almost unnaturally wide with horror and his mouth falling open.

The sight might have been comical if you hadn’t been on the verge of wetting your pants in terror.

It’s a massive, dark shape moving underwater, right beneath the surface. It’s still a considerable distance from the Treasure, but at the speed it’s moving, it’ll be upon you in mere minutes. You have no idea what kind of monstrous beast it could be, but you definitely don’t want to find out. Neither does Seonghwa, apparently, because he turns around and sprints across the main deck for the captain’s cabin.

You watch, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as he snatches up an iron bar and hammer, wasting no time in striking it with all the force he has.

The sound rings across the ship and immediately the whole ship ceases activity, waiting in anticipation for a command. Mingi leaps down from the quarter deck in one smooth movement, not even bothering with the stairs. Seonghwa shouts something at him that you can’t quite hear over the distance and the quartermaster dashes up to the forecastle deck to you, boots pounding on the wooden planks.

“Where is it?” Is all he rasps out, eyes scouring the horizon for a glimpse of it. This time, you have no problem locating it, your eyes almost instinctively drawn to its shape. You point at it, and it must be a lot closer and bigger than before, because Mingi sees it almost immediately and his face goes ashen.

“All hands on deck!” Mingi bellows at the crew, who leap into action at once. “Raise the mizzen sail and ready the cannons! We’re going to sail a port beam reach to the wind!”

In front of you, a flurry of activity breaks out over the ship. Along the bulwarks, you see men rushing to untie the cannons which had been previously secured to the main deck, powder monkeys running out from below deck with small white bags of what you assume to be gunpowder. There’s a snapping sound as the massive square sail of the third sail comes down, and you grab for the railing as the Treasure almost flies forward at a speed that seems impossible for such a massive ship.

“Yunho, trim the sails!”

The tall man slides down from the crow’s nest on one of the sheet ropes, landing as nimbly as a cat on the deck. He leads a team of men in hauling on the sheets, tightening them as them prepare to sail perpendicular to the wind.

San joins you at the bow. “It’s big.” He comments about the growing shape dryly. “Probably about two or three times bigger than the ship.”

He’s understating. The monster looks like it could eat the Treasure for breakfast.

“We’re travelling at six knots!” You hear someone call from the other side of the ship. Mingi shakes his head furiously.

“Tighten the sheets! We need to move faster than twenty knots!”

“What’s a knot?” You ask San.

“A nautical mile per hour.” The healer answers, never taking his eyes off the sea monster. “We measure the ship’s speed with a device called the common log.The speed of the ship is said to be the number of knots counted.”

“And do you know what’s chasing us?”

San eyes you with a disgruntled stare. Even the ever calm healer seems a little unnerved. “You could always go overboard and find out.”

“We’re gaining in speed!” A man at the starboard shouts, leaning over the rail. “Nine knots now!”

There’s a groaning of rope as the sails pivot on their masts to catch the wind, Yunho shouting commands to the sail trimming crew. The ship angles to the left, diverging from its original course.

“Where are we headed?” You swallow uneasily. San shrugs, no more knowledgeable than you.

“Yeosang is trying to find somewhere along the coast we can go ashore or hide from the monster.” He squints at the dark shadow as the ship continues to sail away from the monster. “It may not even be chasing us specifically.”

The dark shape changes course as well, moving right for the ship.

“Well that’s a reassuring thought.” You gulp. There’s a intent to the massive creature, in the way it moves. No doubt, it’s heading for the ship and from how it looks even bigger than before, it’s gaining on them.

“Thirteen knots!” The same man bellows, his voice almost breaking in fear. Mingi curses under his breath.

“We’re losing ground.” He swears rather colourfully. “Hongjoong-hyung needs to sail a beam reach or we have no chance of outrunning that thing. I predict it’s moving at about twenty five knots and that’s nearly impossible for us even with a strong wind.”

“What happens if the wind gives out on us?” You mutter to yourself, but Mingi hears you.

“It won’t.” The quartermaster replies with a sort of assured confidence, as if he is stating fact. “Not with Captain around.”

You want to argue that the captain can’t control the skies, but it seems insistent on proving you wrong. The ship suddenly surges forward with a burst of speed, the bow slicing the sea before them. You’re thrown off balance for a moment but manage to hang onto San for dear life. He barely notices your added weight on his arm.

“Hongjoong-hyung has the blessing of a sea god on him.” Mingi tells you bluntly as his eyes continue following the movements of the sea monster. “Usually we rarely encounter any threats of nature on the ocean, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

“A sea god?” You repeat skeptically. San nods seriously.

“Even Hongjoong-hyung himself didn’t believe it. But there’s a pulse around him, a positive, protective energy that reflects the sea and keeps him safe from most storms. Someone drew power from it to place a blessing upon him.”

“Let’s hope it’s enough to save us.” You mutter nervously as the dark shape draws even closer. The ship is almost skimming the waves now, flying with the wind as it angles towards the left.

“Twenty six knots!”

There’s a massive cheer from the ship, but their happiness is cut short when the dark shape puts on a burst of speed, moving towards them with some kind of sinister intent.

Mingi lets out a growl.

“Wooyoung, fire the cannons!”

A young man with striking purple hair leaps to a cannon, as do the rest of the gun crews. He adjusts the cannon, moving it about a swiveling platform before locking it in place with a lever.

“Fire!” His voice rings out and one of the crew hands him a piece of burning slip. He touches it to the cannon.

“Fire in the hole!”

“Cover your ears.” San advises you serenely, his own hands clasped over his ears. You follow suit just before you hear a sound like a massive thunderclap that threatens to split the sky in half.

Jumping into the air, you yelp as you feel your ears ringing at the noise. Your eyes, however, trace the almost too fast flight of the cannonball as it streaks across the sky and smashes into the ocean with incredible force.

There’s a moment of silence.

Then a pained roar, so loud and so enraged that every pirate on the deck almost quakes in fear. Then you hear Yunho call from the rigging.

“Land sighted!”

Your eyes follow his, and you spot a cove with narrow opening, likely too small for the sea monster to enter. So that was their plan.

“This is a dangerous plan.” San murmurs to himself. You look at him worriedly.

“Why? From what I see, it’s our best option.”

The healer exhales, frowning. “Yes it is, but we’re in Navy infested waters and now we’re heading for land, where it’ll be difficult for us to catch wind and leave. After that cannon shot, every ship in a ten mile radius would have heard us.”

“But we don’t have a choice.” You try to reason. San nods reluctantly.

“That’s the problem.”

The ship nears the tiny cove, a narrow passage surrounded on all sides by rocky cliffs. The captain, once again, steers his ship through without the slightest bit of fear, as if he’s one with the ship. The sides of the ship barely scrape the walls of cove opening, and once you’re through, the crew let out a ateezmassive cheer of relief.

The dark shape presses against the mouth of the cove for a moment, as if trying to squeeze it’s way in. You watch with bated breath as the monster hovers there, before letting out an immense roar that shakes the very masts of the ship and causes the treasure to rock back and forth unsteadily, a quivering shadow in the deep.

For a brief second, you suddenly see it and your breathing cuts off in a gasp of realization.

It’s staring at you, just like before. A colossal shape that glows a brilliant crimson, the colour of blood.

There’s another seething roar that causes the sails to shake in the wind and the crew to rush to cover their ears before the shadow vanishes into the depths, as abruptly as it has come.

The crew aboard the ship break out in cheers and hollers of excitement, but you merely slump against the rails of the bulwark, hands trembling as you try to come to terms with what you have just realised.

It was the eye from your dream.


	6. I Am The Captain

“So it was the prisoner that saw the monster first, huh?”

You’re standing on the quarterdeck for the second, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily. The captain eyes you suspiciously once more and like a frightened animal you stand up a little straighter unconsciously.

“Yes, captain.” Seonghwa nods seriously. “He saved us all.”

Hongjoong then scrutinizes you once more, as if trying to come up with some explanation how the monster could be part of some bizarre plan to infiltrate the ship. Then the lookout, Yunho, steps in.

“He did, Cap'n. Even I couldn’t see it.”

“Maybe you got lazy and were slacking off on duty, Yunho.” Hongjoong gives his crew member a disgruntled look, but Yunho doesn’t flare up or get angry, instead just laughs in agreement.

“Of course I was. Everyone gets bored and slacks off during lookout duty.” He grins with disarming charm, before his face turns serious once more. “But I have to admit, Cap'n, even if I were paying attention, I doubt I could have spotted the creature.”

Hongjoong then turns to you, wearing the most annoyed expression he can possibly contort his face into. You swallow.

“Well, it appears that the ship and I are in your debt-”

The striking purple haired gunner, who you now know to be Wooyoung, pipes up cheerily. “He did save our lives!”

Wooyoung is a curious character. He’s undeniably good looking, with hair an unnatural shade of purple and a friendly, easygoing smile. But it’s the broken shackles around his wrists that catch your attention, the iron collar resting against his throat that makes you wonder so much more about him.

“Thank you for reminding me.” If looks could kill, Wooyoung would be floating face down in the Davy Jones Locker by now. Hongjoong clears his throat with a vexed cough and continues. “Like I was saying earlier, the ship and I are in your debt-”

Seonghwa nods once again. “That is to be deserving of some reward, at least.”

You see the captain’s fingers reach for his swords and for a moment you worry for the cook’s life.

“However, I still do not trust you.”

Behind him, San lets out a long suffering sigh and Hongjoong whips around to eyeball him with a sharp glare that goes sailing over the healer’s head before he tries to continue.

“As I was saying, I do not trust you, but-”

“We do owe a life debt to him, though.” Mingi ponders out loud and Hongjoong finally loses it.

“Everyone keep your mouths shut and stop interrupting me! I am the captain, for sod’s sake, and god help me if I do not throw you lot overboard the next second I see your mouths open!”

There’s a pause.

“Sorry captain.” The five of them chorus obediently in synchronization, but you see them share tiny, amused smiles. Your eyes widen. They’re pulling the captain’s leg?

Hongjoong tugs his red jacket closer around him with a huff. “Honestly, does nobody on this ship respect me anymore? Has everyone on board forgotten that I am the captain? As I was saying…” He glances suspiciously around at his five crew members, as if expecting another smart remark to leave their mouths, but they keep silent with barely restrained snickers. He turns back to you. “The ship and I are in your debt. I do not trust you yet, but I am willing to give you a chance to earn it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take that in. He’s offering you food, a shelter, a home. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You aren’t a prisoner any longer. Then your mouth opens before you can run the words by your brain.

“But you hate me!”

At this, San breaks out into full blown laughter, the other three chortling under their breath. Hongjoong gives them murderous glares that go completely ignored, before sighing in resignation as they continue sniggering.

“I do not hate you. I merely mistrust you.” The captain kicks San in the leg, which only makes the healer erupt in another fit of uncontrollable giggles. “I expect hard, honest work from you. And my words still stand the same, if I discover you to be of any way related to the Royal Navy, I’m blowing your head off.”

“I thought you said you were going to gut him the last time.” Mingi comments with all seriousness and sprints away laughing when Hongjoong tosses his boot at him. Seonghwa hides his smile behind his hand politely.

You can’t believe your eyes. They can actually joke and play around with their captain. You thought Hongjoong had been some kind of tyrant, savage, cold and with some kind of desire to see your head on a spike, who ruled his ship with an iron fist. The laughter you hear ringing out from his crew is so real, so genuine that you can’t believe this is the same person who threatened to gut you like a pig.

“Either way, I believe the polite response would be to graciously accept.” Hongjoong huffs as Mingi waves his captain’s boot teasingly from the safety of the main deck, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. “We’ll need to get you some proper clothes and some weaponry training from Jongho or Yunho, and some sort of job for you on board.”

“I could take him as an apprentice.” San suggests, and your heart swells with gratefulness as you can tell you he’s trying to spare you from manual labour. “He could help Seonghwa as a cook as well.”

“Very well.” Hongjoong nods, eyes still trained on Mingi dancing around the deck with his boot. You never thought the quartermaster would have such a playful personality either. “Seonghwa, are you alright with that?”

“I follow anything you command, captain.” The cook replies honestly, and Hongjoong groans.

“I told you, call me Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa’s smile remains unchanged.

“Yes, captain.”

“San and Seonghwa will tell you what to do from now on.” The captain tells you, eyes serious. “Do not disappoint me.”

For a second, your breath is taken by the intensity of his gaze and you swear you see the oceans in his eyes.

The blessing of a sea god, huh? I could almost believe it.

“Yes, captain!” You shout, springing to attention. Hongjoong look shocked at your willingness for a moment, before a minuscule smile curves on his lips. It’s gone so quick you almost miss it, but it’s there.

Your mouth falls open in abject shock.

Then he turns to the main deck. “Get your ass back here, Mingi!”

And the next instant, the captain is chasing down his own quartermaster, laughing like a young man, his carefree laughter drifting over on the wind.

“See?” Seonghwa steps next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “I told you that captain doesn’t actually hate you.”

With that, he steps down to the main deck, heading for the galley. Wooyoung joins him, skipping down to where the gun crews are cleaning out the cannons once more.

“That went well.” San looks amused, watching his captain and quartermaster race around the deck as the crew cheer them on. “It seems as if you will be us even beyond Tortuga, then. I expect you to study hard under me.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Were you serious about me becoming your apprentice?”

The healer gives you a dry look. “Does it look like I was joking?”

“But I’m an amnesiac!” You bluster nervously, suddenly in panic at the thought of having to learn something. “I don’t remember how to be an apprentice!”

“And I’ve never had an apprentice either, so I suppose we’re in the same boat.” San retorts calmly, his gentle hand coming to rest on your head. “Do me proud, apprentice.”

At that, you almost don’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

The next morning, San wakes you up bright and early to assist Seonghwa with preparing breakfast for the crew. When you ask him what he’s up to, he simply shrugs and wanders off to the storage hold. He’s probably counting the apples in the hold again.

The cook gives you a blinding smile when he sees you. “Here you are! I was wondering when you’d arrive. Would you help me cut the dried meat?”

Your fingers fumble with the knife, clumsy and unsteady, as if you’ve never held one your entire life. For all you know, you could have. But Seonghwa is infinitely patient with you, he wraps a hand around your smaller one and guides you with a gentle patience, and at the end of it all, you’re sure you’ve improved, at the very least.”

“Now wrap each piece in this flatbread.” The cook instructs you and you follow, until someone knocks on the galley door. Seonghwa looks up in surprise.

“Come in!” He calls, and when the door swings open, you’re pretty sure you’ve died and gone to heaven.

Nobody can look that good. Nuh uh. Not possible. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, with a jawline sharper than the knife you’re holding and gentle, delicate features that remind you of nobility. There’s an air of quiet confidence to him that ensnares the senses, and you don’t even realize that you’re gaping like a dying fish until Seonghwa taps you on the shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyeing you worriedly. You choke out a little ‘no’.

“Ah, you’re the stowaway, aren’t you?” The man smiles at you as he closes the galley door behind him, and you feel like you got slapped in the face by the fact he’s actually moving and talking and isn’t actually a statue. “I heard you broke Mingi’s nose.”

That snaps you out of your daze real quick.

“I did.” You nod, a little sheepishly. Seonghwa chuckles, passing a bread roll to the man.

“Eat up.” Then he turns to you. “This is our navigator, language expert and sailing master, Kang Yeosang. He’s very knowledgeable about all things ocean related and loves anything to do with mythical things.”

“Thank you for the introduction, hyung.” Yeosang rolls his eyes but takes a bite of his breakfast with a smile, seating himself opposite you.

You pause. This has been eluding you for quite some time, but you finally pipe up.

“Hey… I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, but what is a hyung? I hear Mingi calling the captain that, but what does it mean?”

Seonghwa and Yeosang exchange brief looks.

“Why doesn’t our resident language expert answer that?” Seonghwa gestures to Yeosang, who sighs good naturedly, but answers anyway.

“If you are a man in the company of an older man, you should refer to them as hyung, and when your conversation partner being an older woman, then you call her noona.” Yeosang explains, taking another bite of his food. You nod thoughtfully.

“So, assuming I’m younger than both of you, I should call you Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosang-hyung?”

Yeosang applauds you. “You learn quickly, stowaway.”

A genuine smile breaks out across your face. You’ve never actually learned anything before, at least not that you remember, but it seems that you’re improving!

Yeosang gets to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be off. Hyung, can you pass me some food for captain?”

Seonghwa nods, bustling in the back as he prepares another bread roll for his captain. You look up at Yeosang for a moment as a thought occurs in your mind.

“Yeosang-hyung, how does the captain steer the ship all the time? Doesn’t he need to sleep too?”

The navigator looks at you in surprise. “Hongjoong-hyung doesn’t steer the ship all by himself. He swaps shifts with Mingi.” Seonghwa passes him a plate of bread and dried meat. “I’ll be going now. See you around, stowaway.”

You wave as he leaves, the door gently closing behind him as he ascends to the captain’s cabin.

“Captain.”

Yeosang opens the door to find his captain on his break from the wheel, a mug of tea in hand and a thick book in the other. His one eye flits across the worn pages so quickly no one would guess he had just learnt to read barely two years ago. His captain ponders on a page, bookmarks it quickly, before moving on to the next. He’s so absorbed in his work he doesn’t even notice when Yeosang shuts the door behind him.

“Captain, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

At that, Hongjoong does jump, almost drawing his musket before he realizes it’s just Yeosang with a plate of his breakfast. He snaps the book shut so fast that dust flies from its pages, trying to act as calm as possible while discreetly shoving it under the blankets on Yeosang’s bed.

“I keep telling you, call me Hongjoong.”

“Yes captain.” It’s a long running joke between all of them, that none of them actually call him by name. He sets the plate in front of Hongjoong, silently sliding the book out from beneath the covers. His captain takes a bite.

“A Complete Sum of Names Commonly used in the East and Their Meaning.” Hongjoong chokes on his bread and makes a swipe for the book, but his navigator simply dances out of the way, flipping to one of the dog eared pages and beginning to read the names out loud.

“Dahae, meaning big ocean. It combines the characters of much (多) and ocean (海).”

“Give it back!” Hongjoong makes another grab for it, but Yeosang simply tosses the book into his other hand and continues reading smoothly.

“Myeongeun, with the character 明 myeong meaning bright, light, brilliant; clear and the character 恩 eun meaning kindness, mercy, charity.”

“Stop it!” Hongjoong manages to yank the book back into his arms, stuffing it back in the shelf. There’s a knowing smile on Yeosang’s face that he doesn’t quite like the look of. “And wipe that grin off your face. I was just doing a little light reading.”

“Of course, captain. You were reading about names. It’s an interesting, broad topic. I should start reading about it as well.” His navigator replies with a polite cough and a smile.

Hongjoong eyes one of his oldest friends suspiciously. He can’t tell whether he’s making fun of him or actually being serious. “Anyway, I need to discuss something with you. Do you know what was chasing us today?”

At his captain’s words, Yeosang’s smile slides off his face, only to be replaced by an uncharacteristic scowl. “I’m not sure, captain. It was dark and didn’t surface above the water so I didn’t get to see how it looked like clearly. But from its size and the way it moved…”

“It swam like some sort of squid… or octopus.” Hongjoong recalls, brows pinching together as he tries to associate its characteristics with any sea creature he knows. “Can’t be the mermaids, and it’s too big to be a shark or octopus…”

Yeosang crosses the room to pull out a book from a shelf, its pages tattered and yellowed with time. It’s a thick tome, but Yeosang simply flips to a single page, as if he’s known what he was looking for the whole time.

Then he slams the book down on the table.

“Here.”

Hongjoong’s fingers reach for the book, eye flitting over the page. It’s a crudely hand drawn rendition of a monstrous beast, some sort of cross between a squid and octopus, powerful suckers and deadly spikes along the length of its twelve tentacles. It’s two eyes are huge, and according to the small ship drawn next to it for comparison, it’s at least three times the size of the Treasure. Each tentacle could wrap around his ship with ease.

“And then I saw it, the gigantic beast thought to be legend.” Hongjoong reads aloud grimly. “Its head towered above the crow’s nest of the ship, and each of its tentacles stretching over two hundred feet. I looked up, it was so large in size that it blocked out the sun, and saw two eyes the colour of blood, each twice of me and then some. It raised a tentacle, and in one sweep destroyed all three masts, smashing them to nothing more than matchwood.

The Gallic slave aboard the ship declared aloud, ‘Praise to Sǣr, the sea and storm.” In the next second, he was thrown into the sea and was never to be seen again.

It is the loyal servant of the sea goddess, the one who breathes the oceans. It travels the deep, carrying out her bidding. The men call it the hafgufa, or in our native tongue…

… the Kraken.”


	7. Battlemaster

“So, you’re saying you heard the voice of the sea monster.”

“Yes…” You say hesitantly, Seonghwa nodding encouragingly at you as you spill the beans to San. The healer’s face is unreadable, inscrutable as he eyes you silently, fingers drumming over the side of his mug of tea.

“I can vouch for him.” Seonghwa speaks up but San shakes his head, setting down his drink with a thunk.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, apprentice.” San’s eyes are unnaturally sharp for such a soft person. He straightens his back, before giving you a pensive glance. “But for you to be able to hear the voice of a sea monster… what could it possibly mean?”

“Perhaps he is blessed similarly to Hongjoong?” Seonghwa suggests. The healer nods thoughtfully.

“That could be the case. We don’t know who you were before you lost your memories, so that could well be the answer.” San explains, and you frown. You, blessed by a sea god?

“But I can’t do that thing captain can… like making the ship move faster.” You try to get your point across. Apart from having heard the monstrous beast once, you’re not much special anyway else. You have no voodoo magic thing about you, or any control over the wind. Hell, you can barely use a kitchen knife the right side up.

The cook ponders this thoughtfully. “Different people may be blessed different ways. It’s always a possibility you can consider-”

“Stowaway?” You jerk to your feet as a new voice comes from the door. There are two men standing in the doorway, much to your surprise. One you recognize, the lookout, Yunho, and the other seems vaguely familiar.

He’s at least half a head taller than you, with a rounded face and serious, deep brown eyes. He can’t be very old, but the way he carries himself is endearing, like a young boy trying to match up to his older peers.

“Are we interrupting anything, hyungs?” He asks, so seriously that you’re almost impressed for a moment. His face is stoic, waiting for a reply so earnestly you immediately feel an almost irrepressible urge to wrap him up in a massive hug and squish his cheeks. He’s dressed simply in a sky blue shirt with white strips over a white tee, tucked into black trousers. This seems to be standard clothing for most of the crew.

Ah, you remember where you’ve seen him before.

When you had been tied up on deck, you’d seen seen him working out on deck, doing an insane number of push ups, lifts, running back and forth the bow and stern until you had gotten tired just from watching him. He didn’t seem to exist within normal human limitations, doing sit ups with entire tree trunks or squats with other members of the crew twice his size on his back.

But it was his voice that left an impact on you the most. You had been battling a raging fever, agonizing pain and a terrible loneliness. One night, you had been in despair once again, wondering if you were going to be thrown to the sharks the next day or whether the captain would simply shoot you dead, when you had heard a voice singing.

“Born on the wrong side of the ocean  
With all the tides against you  
You never thought you’d be much good for anyone  
But that’s so far from the truth

I know there’s pain in your heart  
And you’re covered in scars  
Wish you could see what I do…”

Until now, you still don’t know what song it was, but it had lulled you out of your self pity and that night you had slept with a calm mind. Of course, the apple breaking had also helped to amuse you greatly, but the way he had sung, so soulful and with so much emotion, was something you couldn’t forget.

You wanted to thank him, but how?

“No, we were just chatting about how our stowaway’s cooking is getting better.” San smiles, and you whip around to stare at your master in shock so fast it almost gives you whiplash.

“You said my cooking tastes like raw fish innards!” You cry in protest, but the healer simply shrugs. Seonghwa tries to encourage you.

“You have gotten better at using a knife…” He says, smiling so genuinely it almost lifts your spirits for a moment. Then you remember Seonghwa is inherently good and literally not one bad thing can come out of his mouth.

“Your cooking used to taste like rotten fish innards, apprentice.” San says with a completely straight face, dodging the roll of bandage that comes sailing at his head with ease. But Yunho chuckles, and you see the teasing smile pulling at the side of your master’s mouth.

He’s playing with you again. You puff out your cheeks in annoyance, but San merely laughs at you.

“What do you need him for, Yunho?” Seonghwa asks, getting to his feet. The lookout gestures in your direction.

“Hongjoongie-hyung wanted us to teach the stowaway a little combat skill. Hate to break it to you, but no one can live a pirate without at least knowing how to defend yourself.” Yunho tosses you a short knife. You barely catch it, fumbling with the leather before gripping it tightly in your hands. You’re lucky the blade is wrapped in a sheath, or you’d have chopped off your own fingers.

You turn to San and the healer simply makes a shooing motion with his hands. You give him a dry look.

No touching words of wisdom or encouragement?

He shakes his head.

Nope.

You sulk and turn back to your new teachers. “I’ll be in your hands then.”

“Do your best!” Seonghwa calls from behind you as the pair lead you to the main deck. Some of the crew give you strange looks, undoubtedly wondering why their stowaway turned healer is with the lookout and their resident opera singer(?), but you ignore them.

“So, stowaway.” Yunho begins in some sort of introduction. “I’m Yunho, the lookout and a battlemaster. This kid here,” he jerks a thumb at the young man next to him, who immediately eyes his older crewmate with a scowl, “is Jongho, our resident maknae and the other battlemaster of the ship.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jongho says rather indifferently, looking at everywhere but you. You frown a little at his cold reception.

“Don’t worry about Jongho, he’s just a little shy around new people.” Yunho explains while dodging his junior’s fist, as if this is a common occurrence. “He’s also the youngest, so he’s never really been around anyone younger than him.”

You don’t really know what your age is, with your lost memories and all, but you are shorter than him, so you suppose that’s a fair assumption to make.

“Any questions before we begin?” The lookout asks, pulling a short knife from his belt and twirling it so effortlessly you’re already impressed. But you do have a question. Two, actually.

“What’s a battlemaster? And why are there two of you?”

“A battlemaster is a person who leads a fighting party during raids. We also train the crew in combat.” Yunho tells you. “Jongho is in charge of more… blunt weaponry, while I handle swords and pistols.”

“We’ll be starting off with determining which combat style you’re more suited to.” Jongho adds on quietly, reaching for the hem of his shirt, Yunho following suit. You’re confused for a moment, until you see the two of them starting to strip their clothes off.

Wait.

Wait.

“Wait!” You screech, shielding your eyes from the sight with your hands. “What are the two of you doing?”

“We’re going to be sparring with you, so we don’t want our clothes to get dirty from sweat.” Yunho sounds a little bewildered, and you hear him moving forward to remove your hand from your eyes. Before he can, you scoot backwards away from his voice…

…only to end up pressing against someone’s bare chest.

Help me.

“If it bothers you so much, we’ll put our shirts back on.” Jongho says gruffly from behind you, and gods help you because his voice is right at your ear and you can feel his chest thrumming against your back with every word he says. He steadies you with his hands before mercifully moving back from you, giving you some much need space and time to remove the flush from your cheeks. You hear the rustle of fabric and sighs from the two men, before Jongho finally gives you the cue to remove your hands.

“We’re decent.”

Hesitantly, you peek out from between the cracks of your fingers. Both men are dressed in their tees and trousers, overshirts slung over their shoulders.

“Honestly, stowaway, you scream like a woman.” Yunho chuckles. All you manage is a weak, little laugh, but you can’t help but think how true that statement is.

“Try to lift this.” Jongho passes you a wooden club with one hand, and fooled by the ease with which he carries the weapon, you accept it gratefully.

It’s heavy.

It also almost smashes your recently healed foot into smithereens.

“Watch out for the club!” The younger battlemaster yelps, snatching the blunt weapon back from you in alarm. You’re wheezing, half in fear from your near foot crushing experience and the other half because your arms are screaming in pain.

How on earth did Jongho carry that? It’s so heavy that your arms simply could not keep it off the ground. You’re still staring at Jongho in wide eyed open awe when he notices you.

“What?” He scowls fiercely, turning away. But you catch the red tinge on his cheeks.

“I would say you are not at all suited to Jongho’s usual style of fighting.” Yunho smiles amicably, throwing Jongho a sword. To your awe once more, Jongho easily catches it by the handle, flipping it over in his hand as if it is second nature to him. “Jongho will demonstrate a few moves with the cutlass.”

Jongho pauses to give his senior a dark look.

“I will?”

“Yes, you will.” Yunho eyes his junior with an excited smile and some kind of unspoken argument seems to happen between the two of them. In the end, Jongho sighs in exasperation, a long, heavy exhale and raises the sword.

“I hate the apple trick, so I’m only doing this once, alright?”

You barely have time to ask what the apple trick is before he launches into movement.

The tip of the blade pierces air, a whistling sound as the weapon scythes across mere inches from your nose. He’s barely completed a swing before he effortlessly reverses the action, twirling the blade and stabbing forward. Stepping forward, he spins the weapon in hand, executing a perfect downstroke, wielding the cutlass as if it is a natural extension of his own arm. You continue to watch, completely awestruck, as he finishes his demonstration with a final move, leaping high and twirling in midair, before bringing the blade right down on Yunho’s head.

You almost scream in shock, but then you see the razor sharp edge slice through an apple that Yunho must have placed on his head during the demonstration. The red fruit splits all the way in half, but the blade stops merely a hair’s breadth from Yunho’s head.

There’s silence for a moment, then a smattering round of applause from the crew that have been watching in respect of Jongho’s unparalleled skill.

“So that’s all you have to do.” Yunho is completely unruffled, tossing you a half of the apple while taking a munch of the other. You stare at him like he’s just slapped you in the face.

“That’s all?” You repeat incredulously. “That’s all?” Your voice starts rising in pitch uncontrollably. “I can’t do that! That’s crazy! Jongho is too talented!”

The maknae coughs lightly behind his hand, but he sounds pleased.

“I believe in you!” Yunho chirrups, taking another bite of his apple. “I don’t think anyone could quite reach Jongho’s level, but you should at least try to reach some level of proficiency to defend yourself and your crew mates during battles.”

“I know…” You gulp, and Jongho passes you a wooden sword. It’s longer than you expected, and slightly heavy. Its handle is modeled after the distinctive hand piece of the cutlass that seem to be standard issue on the pirate ship. You try lifting it. “So… Like this?”

“No, you’re holding it the wrong way round, dumbass.” Jongho groans, moving to correct your grip while Yunho looks up at the sky for some kind of divine help.

“This might take a while.” He mutters to himself with a serene smile.

The rest of your day is spent mastering your grip on the sword, learning a few basic swings and as Yunho loves to say, “Practice, practice, practice.” You drill the same movements over and over into your muscles with that single wooden stick so diligently that when night falls and Yunho spares you any more torture, you stumble to the galley with some strange urge in your arms to continue.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa peers at you as you slump over at the table that he uses to prepare the rations, completely exhausted.

“No.” Your words are muffled against the counter top.

The cook gives you a sympathetic smile as he reaches for a bowl, scooping noodles into it. “Yunho and Jongho are hard taskmasters, but they do want the best for you. I’m sure you’ll improve by leaps and bounds with their guidance.”

“Like I am with cooking?” You offer weakly as Seonghwa sets the noodles and a cup of steaming green tea next to you. The cook pauses to consider that.

“Perhaps not as much.” He smiles at you gently and you snort, grabbing the fork.

“Do you fight, Seonghwa-hyung?”

The older man thinks about this for a moment. “Enough to defend myself.” He replies thoughtfully, tapping his spoon against his mouth. “I usually use a cutlass if I’m in close combat, but I prefer these.”

He points to the cooking knives hanging from his belt and your mouth falls open.

“Hello, hello.” Yeosang slides into the kitchen with a spring in his step, a book tucked under his arm and a smile on his face. He must be in a good mood. “Hyung, captain’s dinner, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Wait… hyung, you mean you use the kitchen knives to prepare food with… to kill people? Isn’t that kind of unhygienic?” You babble on, a little grossed out by the fact you may have been eating dried human blood. Seonghwa laughs at your shock as he ladles more noodles into a bowl.

“Don’t be silly.” He shakes his head, reaching for the seasoning. “I clean my knives very well after every battle.”

You turn to the navigator, who’s sitting at the table opposite you, reading a thick book with several dog eared pages intently. You peer curiously at the cover.

“A Complete Sum of Names Commonly used in the East and Their Meaning.” You read aloud curiously. Yeosang turns to stare at you in surprise.

“You read?”

You don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered, so you decided to go with flattered and twist a little smile on your face. “Yes?”

Yeosang must have seen the sour look, because he rushes to explain his words in a more polite manner. “I didn’t mean it that way, so I apologise if you feel insulted. It’s simply uncommon for most folk to know their letters, so I rather impressed that you could read.”

Oh, now you feel a little flattered.

“Well, thanks.” You’re sure your cheeks are a faint shade of red, but you clap your hands to them to hide it. Yeosang catches sight of it and merely laughs gently.

Seonghwa comes over to the two of you, holding the bowl of noodles in one hand and two slender pieces of wood in the other, passing them to Yeosang. The navigator beams at the two of you and turns to leave, but just as he does, there’s a sound of a massive thunderclap and the ship momentarily heels to the right.

Agile and surefooted, Yeosang manages to keep his balance and Seonghwa even saves your bowl of noodles from toppling to the ground.

The three of you stare at each other in wide eyed shock. There’s a moment of silence… and then the frantic ringing of a bell breaks the calm of the night.

Seonghwa and Yeosang react immediately, the navigator slamming the bowl of noodles down on the table as the two rise to their feet with an urgency so different from their usual calm selves. They remind you of hawks in the moment, eyes narrowed and every muscle tensed for action. The tension is palpable.

You don’t know what the alarm is about, but it can’t be good if they reacted this way. You glance at the two men worriedly.

“What’s happening?”

Yeosang flinches and opens his mouth to speak, but your question is answered by Mingi’s bellow from the main deck, echoing all the way into the kitchen.

“Royal Navy! Royal Navy to the south!”


	8. The First Battle

“Shit.”

It takes you a few seconds to register the words leaving Seonghwa’s mouth, but before you can even think about what you should do, the pair spring into action.

Yeosang downs his captain’s noodles in a single gulp, tosses the bowl aside and grabs you by the forearm, hauling you up the stairs the main deck, Seonghwa’s footsteps thundering behind you.

The god awful sound of the bell is still ringing in your ears, but it’s nothing compared to the chaos of the main deck. Pirates sprint back and forth, powder monkeys dashing to and fro carrying bags of gunpowder. You watch as the pirates at the gunwales move like the cogs of a well oiled machine, cleaning the long barrels of the cannons with a dry rammer, before charging them with bags of gunpowder. Other pirates start arming themselves with weapons and donning armour, putting out the torches on the main deck and plunging the entire ship into darkness.

But you already see it.

It must have slipped here, under the cover of night, a massive three masted frigate that almost towers above the Treasure. With snowy white sails and the royal emblem of the Crown, a single red rose, painted on its main sail, there is no doubt to you what this is.

A Royal Navy ship.

You turn to Seonghwa in horror, but you can barely make out his face in the pitch darkness, the only light coming from the half moon in the sky. Yeosang’s hand is still gripping yours tight, but otherwise from that, he is merely a dark shape silhouetted against the night.

Terror almost consumes you whole.

“Hyung, what do I-” You try to ask Yeosang, but the navigator shushes you urgently, pressing his lips against your ear. You can feel his heart pounding against your arm as he whispers to you in sharp, calm tone.

“Don’t make a sound. When it starts, I want you to run for the sickbay. San won’t be there, but don’t worry about him, he’s just getting to the wounded. Bolt the door and don’t open it till San comes back for you. If the enemy breaks down the door, don’t fight back. You don’t have the experience yet.”

You nod, your breaths coming out in near hysterical pants. The Royal Navy is here. They’re armed with cannons. They’re going to kill you, and probably destroy the whole ship too. They’ve already hit the ship. By now, water must be pouring into the bilge and in a matter of minutes the ship is going to sink-

Seonghwa envelops you in a tight hug.

“Don’t worry.” His voice is comforting, soft and gentle in contrast to the way your mind is screaming at you to escape somehow, to bolt before the Navy can fire the next cannon. You want to ask him how on earth he wants you to not worry, but then he strokes you on the head like he does after your cooking lessons for a job well done and the screaming in your mind fades to white noise. “We have Hongjoong’s blessing on our side. Trust us.”

You try to say something, but it comes out as a choked whimper. Your hands are trembling, but Yeosang squeezes them gently. You clear your throat and try again.

“What about the two of you?” You manage against the dry sobs. “What are you going to-”

“Fire!” Mingi’s voice rings out across the silence of the night.

This time, you almost forget to clap your hands over your ears again and all at once, a series of cracks threaten to split your eardrums and from the right the sound of wood splintering like twigs rings across the sea, acrid smoke filling your lungs. Coughing furiously, you barely hear Yeosang shouting for you to run over the screams of agony from the enemy ship which you realize is already a looming shape in front of you, his hand ripping apart from yours.

You try to reach for him, but he’s gone.

You’re completely alone.

“Starboard battery, fire!”

The entire ship rocks to one side as the iron projectiles smash into the side of the Treasure. There’s the sound of wood smashing, the cries of the wounded filling the air, and the smell of gunpowder forcing violent coughs from your lungs and your eyes to water. You stumble forward almost blindly with your hands in front of you, feeling the deck of the ship pitching and rolling violently beneath your feet as you rush to the sickbay.

You’re almost there when disaster strikes.

All of a sudden, the ship heels to the left and your fingers slip from the latch, you’re thrown violently across the deck only to smash into the barrels kept at the port side of the ship.

Something whistles above your head and by some form of sheer dumb luck you dive to the ground, rolling to the side as the barrels you have been crouching behind burst into splinters. Your hands instinctively fly up to protect your face, but the flying wood chips tear into the material of your shirt and graze your skin.

You can’t help yourself from looking back at the wreckage. There are two iron balls, connected by a thick chain lying amidst destroyed barrels and some shredded rope. Your heart pounds like you’ve just run thousands of miles. You can only gulp at what would have happened if you had been a fraction too slow.

“Hold tight, they’re about to hit us!” You hear Mingi scream over the chaos and you turn to stare at the rapidly approaching ship in horror. Then the quartermaster’s words finally register in your head and you’re diving for one of ropes of the mizzen mast’s rigging before you can even think about what you’re doing.

And not a second too late, because the moment your hands clamp around the rope in a vice grip, there is a grating sound of wood against wood that makes your very bones shudder, the entire ship groaning as the Royal Navy ship pulls up along the starboard. You’re thrown literally head over heels by the insane force, rolling over the ground of the main deck. For a moment, you’re straining against the rope as your fingers desperately try to hold on.

There’s screaming all around you, and then the ship tilts back the same way it came from, back towards the starboard, and you’re sent tumbling back across the deck once more like a limp rag doll. Every inch of your body shrieks in protest at the repeated battering and bruising, but then the rope lengthens and you find yourself very nearly thrown over the gunwales of the ship.

Then you scream. Very loudly. Because the upper half of your body is dangling over the bulwarks and your grip on the rope is slipping.

Beneath you is the inky black, bottomless expanse of the ocean. Once you fall in, it will consume you like it has so many others, slowly depriving you of the air you breathe until you finally give up, sinking to the bottom of the seabed where crabs climb over your dead and bloated corpse and pick at your lifeless eyes.

Then you see the crew of the Royal Navy ship on small skiffs and boats, armed to the teeth with muskets and sabers and grappling hooks. 

One of them spots you and raises his gun.

Your heart drops in your chest as he prepares to fire.

Someone’s hand grabs you by the back of your collar and roughly yanks you back onto the deck as the wooden railing in front of you splinters from the musket ball, right where your head had been. 

You turn to stare at your savior in wide eyed horror, your breaths coming out in ragged pants as you desperately try to recover from your near death experience. To your shock, it’s the younger battlemaster from earlier this day, Jongho, primed musket in hand. He gives you a questioning look and raises the firearm to point right in your face.

“Wait-” You panic but then he shoots to the left of your head, and you whip around to see a Navy officer who had been climbing over the bulwarks fall backwards with a bullet in his head. The maknae curses and draws his cutlass, shearing through the grappling hook and you hear the scream of another officer who had been climbing the rope as he plunges into the sea, never to be seen again.

“What are you doing here?” He snaps at you, as he primes his musket again, eyes locked on the enemy ship looming behind you. There’s another round of booming cannon fire and you almost shriek in alarm once more, getting ready to dive to the ground, but then you hear the screams of agony from the crew on the deck of the enemy ship.

“Grapeshot.” Jongho mutters under his breath as he holsters his musket in his belt, eyes scanning the complete mayhem around you. You don’t know what the word means. “Good job, Wooyoung-ssi.” Then he turns back to you, a hard glare on his face.

“Shouldn’t you be in the sickbay or something? How did you end up at the main mast?”

Main mast?

You glance around in shock. In the confusion and pandemonium, you’ve somehow ended up further from the sickbay than where you started. You open your mouth to reply, but your words are cut off by screaming from the stern area.

“They’ve boarded us!”

Jongho spits out another curse, grabbing a knife from his belt and sending it flying at an officer that had been aiming his rifle at you in one smooth motion. Your hands fly to your mouth and you watch with wide eyes as blood spurts from his neck, his knees buckling beneath him and his body falling to the ground with a soft thump.

You force the bile in your throat down at the sight.

The young battlemaster glances between you and the stern, where the fighting is taking place. More and more Navy soldiers have started to board and they’ve organised themselves into a wedge formation, defending the grappling hooks so more of their fellows can join them.

Grinding his teeth, he turns to the bow, only to watch the fabric of the top mainsail get shredded by a bar shot and the resulting splinters fly everywhere, showering the deck in a deadly hail. Nowhere is safe, especially not for a tiny slip of a thing like you.

Then he makes up his mind and shoves a musket into your hands. “Here.” Drawing the dagger that Yunho had given you that morning from your belt and thrusting it at you, he grabs you by the hand and yanks you forward by the wrist towards the stern. “Stay behind me and don’t get in the way.”

You open your mouth to question what exactly he intends for you to do with the musket, since you have no idea how to use it, but then the two of you are in the thick of fighting and you don’t have the brain capacity to form words anymore.

Jongho keeps one hand around your wrist as he pulls you forward through pandemonium of the main deck. Swords flash from every direction and the air is sour with smoke from the gunpowder. For a moment, you wonder if you’re going deaf from the repeated pounding of cannon shot.

Suddenly, a Navy soldier looms out of the darkness in front of you, blade drawn. You barely have time to scream and duck before Jongho jerks you to the side by the arm, his own cutlass curving down in a deadly arc, splitting the man from shoulder to hip. Your eyes and mouth close on reflex as still warm blood splatters across your face and front, but you have no time to panic as Jongho continues moving aft once more. The coppery tang of blood fills your mouth and you wipe the blood from your face, only to nearly gouge your own eyes out with the dagger you’re holding as the Treasure suddenly heels, the bow turning away from the enemy ship.

You spit the blood from your mouth.

“What’s going on-”

“Hongjoong-hyung’s trying to move away from the enemy ship so we can fire explosives instead of resorting to hand to hand combat.” Jongho grunts, flicking the blood from his sword. “I need to get you to the sickbay before I help the crew out, so get moving.”

The threatening tone in his voice kind of terrifies you.

The two of you continue your mad dash, ducking beneath swinging axes and gunfire. It reminds you of your run from the harbor, except this time the ground is rocking back and forth under your feet. And if you thought Jongho was talented, you had obviously never seen talent before, because the young battlemaster fights like an actual demon.

Somehow, with one arm on you, he still mows through the soldiers like a battering ram, scattering enemy left and right. His cutlass dances a deadly tango, flickering like a snake’s tongue, darting in and striking through his opponent’s guard. You’re left in awe of his skill, but he doesn’t really give you much time to appreciate it

.After what seems like an eternity later, you finally reach the stern. Huffing from the exertion, your fingers fumble with doorknob and to your immense relief, the door swings open. For a moment, you panic when you see that San isn’t there, but then the ship suddenly lurches to the side once more and you’re thrown against the door frame violently.

Your fingers slip over the trigger and the deafening sound of a musket shot echoes in your ears.

Your head whips backwards in horror, only to find the lead shot embedded in the chest of a Navy soldier who’d been engaged in a fight with Jongho. The man crumples to the ground, a pool of red spreading beneath his body, but then you see the blood seeping from Jongho’s shoulder where your bullet has grazed him.

The maknae turns to give you a deadly stare.

“I’m so sorry.” You gulp, honestly starting to fear for your life.

“You troublesome-” Jongho begins, but you never get to hear what he was saying as Mingi’s shout tears through the bedlam on board. “We’re pulling away! Clear the deck! Starboard battery, switch to explosives!”

When you glance back at the starboard, the Royal Navy ship has indeed gotten further, much to the relief sagging in your chest. Captain must have managed to outrun the enemy.

You see Yunho rally a team of pirates and they bear down on the soldiers in a pincer formation, forcing them overboard. Other officers, seeing their advantage rapidly being lost, throw themselves over the side rather than face the tall warrior in a berserker’s rage.

“Starboard battery, fire!”

The deck of the Royal Navy ship is bombarded with shot that burst into flames the moment they make contact with the wood. But a single cannon ball slams into the hull right above the waterline, punching a hole in the side of the ship.

Your mouth falls open. That’s where the storage hold of the ship is, where the stocks of gunpowder are kept.

Then the ship is engulfed in flame, a mass of burning wreckage in the distance as the Treasure pulls away, leaving the sinking ship and its dying crew in its wake.


	9. Tension

You’re not dead.

That’s the only thought that drifts in your mind as you lie face up on the forecastle deck, eagle spread like a dead starfish. You watch the sun as it rises over the horizon absentmindedly, even as activity rages beneath you on the main deck.

The gun crews are busy cleaning out the cannons, preparing them for another battle as fast as possible. You don’t see Seonghwa, but you know he’s below decks, leading a team of pirates in checking up on the shot plugs that they used during battle to stop water from gushing in when the ship was hit by cannon fire. You would have been helping San treat the wounded, but one look at your blank, white face and he instructed you to calm down on the forecastle deck instead.

So that’s what you’re doing.

You watch white puffs of clouds drifting past in the clear blue sky. It’s so calm, so peaceful, you find it difficult to believe that you had just been in a sea battle the day before. Only the slight acrid smell of gunpowder that lingers in the air and the occasional holes in the ground from cannon fire reminds you that yesterday was nothing but a dream.

You could have died yesterday.

You’ve just come into this world, with no memories of your previous self, barely at the beginning of the road to recovering your past, so many questions still unanswered, and it could have all ended for you in that one battle.

The erratic beating of your heart pulls you out of your dazed panic.

You try to suck in deep breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you grip the necklace under your shirt tightly. The cuts on your body from the splinters sting and you’re aching from the bruises, but you know other pirates had it far worse.

Then you remember what you did to Jongho’s arm and you wince.

“He’s going to kill me.” You groan, burying your face in your hands. Even after the battle had been won, the young battlemaster had given you a dark glare before storming off to clear the decks of the remaining soldiers.

“Who’s going to kill you?”

You jerk up in shock, spinning around only to see a dark shape dangling upside down from the foremast’s rigging like some sort of giant spider, scaring the living daylights out of you. You yelp in terror and jump back, your foot slipping straight into one of the holes caused by the enemy cannons.

“Ow!” A howl of pain leaves your lips as the sharp edges leave scratches on your calf.

“Woah, careful there!” The dark shape drops from the rigging and hurries over to help you out from your mess. It’s Yunho, you realise, covered from head to toe in soot and to your horror, dried blood.

“Yunho-hyung, you need to get to Master San right away! You’re going to bleed out-”

He laughs easily, waving your concern away. “No worries! It’s not my blood! You should watch out for the holes in the deck till Seonghwa-hyung repairs them.”

You nod, eyes darkening slightly as they rake over the state of the ship. “The Treasure took quite a beating, didn’t she?”

The tall man eyes you curiously as he coils up the rope he was using earlier. “Maybe it’s because you’re new, but these kind of things are pretty common, actually. No worries, Hongjoong-hyung said we’re getting to Tortuga in little less than an hour. We’ll be docking there to finish repairs and replenish stocks.”

At that, you purse your lips. You’re going to reach Tortuga soon, the second time you’re stepping on land after having been on the sea for most of your life since your awakening. The last time didn’t exactly go well for you. “Won’t the Royal Navy be there?”

Yunho shakes his head as he plops next to you, grabbing a rag from his belt and wiping most of the dirt and grime from his face. “Aish, I really want a bath. No, Tortuga is a pirate stronghold, actually. The Royal Navy has little to no power there, so we should be safe… If we pay the town enough money, that is.”

You snort at his last sentence as you lie back on the deck again. The sun is turning the entire sky a beautiful shade of pink-orange, and you turn to see Yunho’s face bathed in the same lovely colour.

He grins at you. “So, who’s going to kill you?”

At that, you shrink into yourself, a little sheepish. You thought you’d distracted him, but it evidently hadn’t worked. “Ah… Well, I was supposed to get to the sickbay during the fight yesterday but I got thrown to the midship area… and Jongho-hyung rescued me.”

Yunho nods proudly, a wide grin curving on his lips as he takes a seat beside you. “Of course he did. He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.”

You wince. “Yeah… But during the battle, I accidentally misfired the musket and killed a soldier fighting with Jongho-hyung-”

The lookout’s eyes go wide with surprise. “So you saved Jongho? That’s amazing!”

“No no no-” You try to protest, but then someone coughs politely behind the two of you.

Both you and Yunho sit up to look at your visitor, only to see the ship’s resident healer standing there.

“Master!” You greet him cheerfully and he nods, studying you carefully for a second.

“Don’t you have work to get to, Yunho-ah?” San says over his shoulder as he checks your complexion and your pulse point for any erratic beating. The lookout pouts adorably, but can’t keep the grin off his face for long.

“Killjoy.” He laughs, before turning back to the foremast. “Catch you later, stowaway.”

San snorts as he watches Yunho go, scaling the rigging easily like a spider does its web. “And not a kind word to me.” Then he turns to you, expression blank as usual but you can read the care in his eyes. “You seem better now, apprentice. I want you to come with me to check an injury for a moment.”

“Ok.” You agree immediately, trailing after him to the sickbay. After the fight yesterday, you’ve realised that you need to acquire as many useful skills as you possibly can so you won’t be a burden to your ship mates during battles. And honestly, healing seems to be the most useful thing you could do for now.

San’s nimble fingers open the latch with ease and the two of you descend to the sickbay. Then you see who it is sitting at the table and you want to run for your life.

It’s Jongho.

You do a complete turn and make to escape before the young battlemaster can notice you, but San grabs you by the arm and hauls you into the room after him. Your master sits himself at the table, and you hover awkwardly next to him, unsure where to look at. Jongho’s eyes immediately pin you to the ground where you stand.

“I want him to learn how to treat a gunshot wound, that’s why he’s here with me.” San explains to Jongho as he pulls out several clean rags, a pair of bronze tweezers and a roll of bandage. The young battlemaster sighs, clearly unwilling, but he nods anyway.

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

San sets to pulling out a spool of thread and a thin needle, from his satchel. “Apprentice, fetch me the lamp and get me the bottle of rum from the shelf.”

You give your master a concerned look as you move towards the shelf hesitantly. “Master, this really isn’t the time to be drinking-”

“I’m using it to clean the wound, idiot. I’m out of marigold. And I abhor the taste of alcohol.” San tuts as he unwraps a sloppily done bandage around Jongho’s upper arm. The wound is a laceration from your stray musket bullet, and from what you can see, it’s still bleeding even though it’s been a few hours since the injury. “Jongho-ah, you know you shouldn’t be helping with the clearing up if you’re injured.”

“They needed someone to move the wreckage from the mizzenmast.” The maknae grunts in way of explanation. You swallow the guilt building up in your throat and move to get the lantern hanging from the low ceiling.

“How did you get this, though?” San continues, tossing the bloodied bandage to the ground. “You usually escape most fights unscathed, or most of your wounds are from close range combat. It’s rare to see you with a musket wound.”

You freeze. You can literally feel Jongho eyeballing the back of your head. But when he finally answers, he simply mutters, “Got sloppy for a moment.”

San coughs. Your master obviously doesn’t believe him but refrains from pressing him, taking the bottle of rum from you and wiping his arms down with them.

“So, apprentice, I’m cleaning my hands with alcohol. It helps to get rid of harmful organisms living on the surface of our bodies.” San works quickly, eyebrows furrowing into concentration as he slides into his ‘healing zone’, where nothing matters to him except the patient, him and occasionally maybe you. “Before you start treating a wound, make sure you clean everything you’re using thoroughly or the wound might get infected.”

“Yes, Master.” You move closer to watch him at his craft. San’s motions are practiced and methodical, as if he’s done it for years, over and over again. When he’s satisfied that everything is spotless, he moves to Jongho’s arm.

“Cloth.” He speaks, and you pass him the clean rags on the table. San soaks them in rum with a pair of tweezers while you cough at the powerful smell of alcohol. You still don’t understand how the rest of your shipmates can just down bottles of it without dying from alcohol poisoning.

Your master ignores you and leans forward, gently dabbing at Jongho’s wound. Apart from a flinch and a muttered curse, the younger battlemaster doesn’t seem to be in much discomfort, even as blood continues to stain the rags red.

“Help me hold down a cloth on his arm.” San instructs firmly as he disposes the last of the dirty rags in a basket. You stare at your master in horror.

“What?”

“You’re not deaf, apprentice. Put pressure on the wound and help me slow the bleeding while I heat the needle.” The healer shoves a cloth into your hands and moves to the lamp, leaving you in awkward silence with Jongho.

You gulp and move towards the maknae, trying not to touch him, but it’s impossible. Laying the cloth over his wound, you press down on it lightly, not wanting to hurt him and trying desperately to ignore his face right next to yours.

“That’s not going to do anything.” Jongho snorts in your ear and you squeak, almost dropping the rag. His large hand covers yours and presses down on it firmly, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

You freeze completely, but the frantic pounds of your heart are otherwise.

“Move to the side, apprentice. I want you to watch this carefully.” San returns with a sterilized and threaded needle, seating himself before Jongho and thankfully sparing you the close contact with the battlemaster. “I’m going to start suturing the wound.”

You breathe in and out quickly, trying to calm your racing heart as you move to make space for your master. Your hand slips from the maknae’s grasp. The slim man crouches in front of Jongho, eyes narrowed in intense focus. With quick, deft movements, he holds the needle with the tweezers and pulls the needle through Jongho’s skin, leaving a row of neat stitches in its wake.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” The words slip out of your mouth worriedly as you glance at Jongho. The battlemaster merely turns away.

San replies in his place as he continues stitching the wound. “I usually put a painkiller made of lavender on the area before I start, but Jongho’s a tough boy, so it’s no problem for him.”

“I am a man. I’m nineteen already.” Jongho grunts in exasperation, but the healer ignores him.

“You’re going to be nineteen.” San corrects him with a grin, finishing of the stitches and snipping the thread with a pair of scissors. The maknae gives him an irritated glare.

“I hate you, hyung.” He grumbles. But before San can reply with another wiseass comment, the sound of Mingi’s voice comes echoing into the sickbay.

“We’ve arrived at Tortuga!”


	10. A Trip Through Town

How did you end up in this situation?

Cobblestone under your feet, smoke in your eyes and sandwiched uncomfortably between two men. When you look to your left, the purple haired gunner grins easily and the arm slung over your shoulder tightens, sending you into some form of secret-to-hide panic. When you turn to the right, Jongho merely looks away, your mind coming up with a hundred and one reasons why he hates you.

After treating Jongho’s wound, the quartermaster, Mingi, had announced that the ship had finally arrived in the pirate town of Tortuga. San had brought you up to the forecastle deck, where you watched civilized land come into sight for the first time since your awakening.

The ship had docked in one of the empty piers, much to the excitement of the crew. You knew many of them loved the ocean, it was their home, but you had to admit that seeing the same thing for weeks had to get boring after a while. It was also difficult to bring fresh food onto ship as it spoilt fast, so most of the ship had been buzzing excitedly about all the delicacies they would eat once they had the chance to explore the town.

But you had a different mission.

After Mingi had gone to the docks to settle the toll, San had pulled you to the side. You frowned at him as he produced a long list from his pocket.

“Uh, Master, what is that?”

“I need you to go shopping in town for me.” The healer had told you, pressing the list into your hands. You immediately started to panic.

“Me? Master, I can’t! I barely know my way around the ship, let alone a new town I’ve never been to!”

Your reasoning fell on deaf ears.

“It’ll be fine! I’ll have Jongho follow you, he’s going into town as well for some shopping.” San chirped happily as he pulled a coin pouch from the inner folds of his shirt. You stared at him in abject horror as the coins clinked in your hand.

“Master! You can’t send me with… with Jongho-hyung! Why don’t you send Seonghwa-hyung or Yeosang-hyung instead?”

No way. No way in hell were you going to be with the young battlemaster for long, extended periods of time. He’d probably “accidentally” lose you in town somewhere as revenge for shooting him on accident and you had no wish to die a terrible death in some dank, dirty alley.

San had cocked his head at you curiously. “Seonghwa-hyung is busy fixing the ship as the head carpenter on board. Yeosangie is helping Mingi negotiate for a lower price to pay for the toll. I need to stay here to treat the wounded and Jongho can’t tell a marigold poultice from marmalade.” Then the corners of his eyes crinkled a little and he gave you a sly grin. “Or is there any reason why you don’t want to be alone with Jongho?”

You glared at him. Your master must have felt the tension in the room between you and the young battlemaster earlier, and now he was just milking it for all it was worth instead of helping you out.

San had laughed at the sour look on your face and relented a little. “Alright, alright. How about this? I’ll send Wooyoungie with you and Jongho.”

“Send who with me now?” You were utterly confused. The healer sighed.

“The head gunner?” He tried to jog your memory, gesturing wildly with his hands as if that would aid you in remembering anything. “The one with the dolphin laugh? The purple haired one?”

“Him?” You were sent into a moment of panic, flailing your arms desperately. “But I don’t know him either!”

San clapped, the sounds starting to get annoyingly loud. “All the better! You can finally get to know more of your crew mates!” He steered you by the shoulders towards the gangplank, which had been lowered for the crew to disembark the ship, all while ignoring your cries of protest. “Just wait there for Jongho and Wooyoung!”

And that was how you had ended up in this terrible situation.

“So, you’re our little stowaway, aren’t you?” Wooyoung beams at you, arm around your shoulder. His hand is hanging alarmingly close to your chest, but you can’t push it away without garnering suspicion. You try to give him a smile, but it comes out more like a painful grimace.

“Yes?” Your answer sounds more like a question.

“Aigoo, you’re so cute!” Wooyoung smooshes your cheeks together much to your complete embarrassment. Then you hear a muffled snort from your right and you really want to crawl into a hole and die. The purple haired gunner is way too close, way too touchy feely, way too physical. Honestly, you’ve just met the man!

You give him an awkward chuckle through your squished cheeks and pull his hands from your face. The shackles around his wrists jingle as his hands fall back to his sides.

“So, where are we going?” You try to distract the man before he tries to hug you again. You don’t think your heart can take any more surprise embraces before it gives you a heart attack.

Wooyoung stops in the middle of the street you’re in, glancing around. The place is bustling with people, vendors peddling their wares, women in colourful dresses picking out accessories and hairpins.

Your fingers reach up to brush the short, messy braid your own hair is in and for a lingering moment, a feeling of yearning rushes through you.

“Do you want a hairpin, stowaway?” Wooyoung’s head rests on your shoulder and you leap into the air in fright. The gunner miraculously twirls out of the way with insane reflexes, barely saving his jaw from being crushed by you.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeak, horrified, but Wooyoung merely waves you off with a grin.

“Aww, it’s no problem.” He smiles merrily at you and you’re starting to get a little scared from how he doesn’t seem to stop grinning. Then he looks over your shoulder, his eyes crinkling to adorable half moons as his smile somehow grows even wider.

You turn to see what he’s looking at.

A gorgeous woman stands there, dolled up beautifully with a fair face and red slicked lips. Her dark hair is done in a shower of ringlets, pinned on top of her head with an intricate silver butterfly hairpin. Dressed in a tight leather corset and a ruffled lace skirt that barely comes to midthigh, she and her group of friends draw eyes from everywhere.

Wooyoung beams and waves at her.

The woman looks shocked for a moment before her lips curve up in a sultry smile, her finger beckoning him forward in a come hither motion. The head gunner grins at the two of you.

“Well, I’ll be going now!” Wooyoung squeezes you and Jongho into a tight hug, much to your panic. The maknae stares at him in mounting shock and fury. “Remember to take care of our baby stowaway, Jongho-ah!”

“Hyung, you can’t just leave me alone with him, you shameless basta-”

But then Wooyung is gone with the mysterious woman before the two of you can blink.

Jongho practically has steam pouring from his ears. “I’m going to kill that little son of a bitch the next time I see him. Ditching me to babysit while he sleeps around-”

A frown pulls on your lips as Jongho rants on to nobody.

“Why doesn’t Wooyoung-hyung just sleep on the ship?” You pipe up timidly, and Jongho whirls around to stare at you in shock with a hand pressed against his mouth.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

Then Jongho starts rambling with the most unnatural smile you’ve seen plastered on his face. “I can explain-”. He pauses for a long moment, then shakes his head furiously. “No, scratch that, I actually can’t explain. Well… Wooyoung-hyung doesn’t like the hammocks on board, so he prefers sleeping on land-”

“So is the woman his friend?” You ask, glancing back at where the two had left, a lavishly decorated building of marble and stone, the letters above it spelling “The House Of Pleasure” in crimson red.

Jongho’s smile turns rather strained and his eyes flit around desperately as if looking for something. “Yes?” He finally chokes out, not quite meeting your gaze as he steers you away from the building and down the dusty street.

“Their skirts are really short.” You muse to yourself quietly. You wonder if that’s practical and turn to the silent maknae to ask, but his face is as dark as a thundercloud and you’re immediately wary of his temper. Swallowing your question, you follow him as he stomps down the alleys and winding streets, meek and silent as a mouse.

Eventually the two of you end up outside a small, dingy shop, the windows dark with grime as if they haven’t seen a clean rag for centuries. A wooden sign hanging from the doorway depicts a picture of a snake curled around a short staff.

“This is an apothecary.” Jongho jerks his thumb at the shop. “Get whatever the hell you need fast so we can get back to the ship.”

You jump a little at his curt tone, but you can tell he’s still simmering with rage at how Wooyoung just up and left the two of you alone with each other. Your head droops. He must really dislike you after the little stunt you pulled with the musket yesterday. And now he’s stuck with you, forced to take care of you and stay with you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble quietly under your breath, but Jongho hears it anyway and whirls around to stare at you.

“What?”

The two of you stare at each other for another awkward moment. Well, shit, you hadn’t meant for him to hear that, but since he had, you might as well tell him what you had wanted to.

You repeat the words a little more clearly this time. “I’m. Sorry.”

Jongho waves off your second apology impatiently. “Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. Why are you apologizing, though?”

You look down at the ground, your booted feet kicking back and forth at the cobblestones. “I’m sorry for being such a burden to you, Jongho-hyung.” Your voice comes out smaller than you thought it would be.

The young battlemaster remains silent for a moment. Then he grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you towards the shop, much to your surprise.

“Get your stuff.” His voice is a little softer, gentler, kinder now. You’re a little confused by his sudden change in attitude, but you do as he says and enter the apothecary.

“Marigold poultice, green tea leaves, honey…” You move past the shelves, studying the handwritten labels as Jongho trails behind you. The maknae looks utterly lost in the small shop, his shoulders brushing the glass jars on the shelves dangerously as he glances around curiously at the dried herbs hanging from the rafters.

“That’ll be twelve silvers, child.” You whip around in shock to see a wizened old man standing there. The bottles and herbs almost tumble to the ground, but Jongho scoops them up before they can shatter into pieces.

“Don’t scare him, old man.” The young battlemaster shoots the shopkeeper a dirty look as you thank Jongho profusely. The elder simply smiles expectantly. His silvery eyes are almost unblinking and you’re a little creeped out for a moment.

Then you remember you’re supposed to be paying him and rummage around in your shirt pocket for the coin pouch. Carefully counting out twelve small silver coins, you press them into the old man’s hands. They feel rough, like sand, against your fingertips.

“Your first time in Tortuga, huh?” The shopkeeper’s laughter sounds more like a dying wheeze. You and Jongho both stiffen at the words. Then the young battlemaster’s eyes narrow as his fists tighten.

“What’s your deal, you old geezer?”

The man merely lets out a derisive snort, pointing at your chest. For a moment, dread grips you as you fear he may somehow figured out that you’re a woman, but then you realise that he’s pointing to the silver necklace dangling from your neck, the clear cut crystal resting against the rough fabric of your shirt, strangely out of place.

“No smart person would leave such a pretty piece for the taking in a pirate town. I’m doin’ you a favour, kid.”

You rush to shove the necklace back underneath your shirt, heart thumping wildly in your chest. It must have slipped out somehow when you had been walking through town. A bead of sweat clings to the curve of your jaw. “Thank you for your help.”

The old man snorts, turning away as he shoos the two of you away. “Don’t expect to meet another kind soul like me here. Get lost before someone tries to steal it from you and I’m caught in the crossfire.”

The pair of you exit the shop, and you hurriedly shove all the things you’ve bought into a cloth bag. Jongho looks a little on edge from the man’s warning, grabbing the bag from your hand and taking you by the wrist.

“Let’s go.”


	11. It's A Date

He pulls you through the town, back to the harbor where you can see several ships docked in the piers. But to your surprise, Jongho doesn’t lead you back to the Treasure. Instead, he drags you to a small bakery selling pastries and sweets.

You turn to him confusedly. “Jongho-hyung, what are we doing here?”

“Pick three cakes.” He gestures at the shelves. The establishment is neat and well kept for a pirate town, and the cakes look rather high quality compared to the other shops you saw earlier. It must be expensive. But since he told you to do it, you obey.

The shop owner takes your pastries and puts them in a little paper bag. Then Jongho adds several more cakes to the order, until his arms are laden with bags of sweet treats.

“Let’s sit.” He tells you gruffly, pulling you to one of the tables outside and sitting you down. You continue staring at him in complete bewilderment even as he pulls out your pastry and sets it in front of you.

“Eat.”

Your mouth falls open. Then you lean forward, pressing a palm against Jongho’s forehead as you look into his eyes intently. “Jongho-hyung, are you experiencing any dizziness or discomfort?”

The maknae jerks back at the contact, face twisted in a confused scowl as he shakes his head. “What? No! What are you-”

“You need to be honest with me, Jongho-hyung.” You look into his eyes carefully, searching for wavering pupils or the like and your voice drops to a secretive whisper. “Have you been drinking without telling Seonghwa-hyung?”

“No! Why are you even asking me this? I’m not being weird!” Jongho yelps as he scoots back further from you, the sound of his chair dragging across the stone floor making both of you wince. “I’m not drunk! I’m not sick either!”

“Okay…” You continue to stare at him with worried eyes as you take a bite of your puff, the sweet taste of cream spreading over your tongue. The young battlemaster sighs.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He glances away from you for a moment to collect his thoughts, before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“I don’t hate you, okay?”

His words are mumbled under his breath, so you lean across the table to hear him more clearly.

“What?”

“I don’t hate you!” He shouts, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks are tinged pink and you look at him in surprise.

“Shut up, kid!” One of the bakery’s patrons shouts at the two of you and you shy back into your chair, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Oh.” Is all you manage.

You’re a little shocked. With how he’d been treating you this while, you thought he’d hated you, loathed you, even. While you weren’t sure why, you had thought he had disliked you immensely.

“Wipe that dumb look from your face before I smack it off.” Jongho grunts, and you realise that your lips are pulled into a wide grin. Hurriedly, you try to hide your Cheshire Cat smile, but it’s impossible. “I mean it!”

Finally with much difficulty, you press your face into a poor attempt at a serious look, much to Jongho’s chagrin. He sighs, slapping a hand against his forehead.

“I’m just awkward with new people, okay?” You’ve never seen the young battlemaster this skittish. Even in battle, he’s always possessed some kind of quiet, silent self confidence, not an ounce of self doubt in him. “And I was always the youngest till you came along, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to… take care of you.”

You’re oddly touched by this for a moment. This strong man, who can handle even the fiercest of enemies, awkward and shy… because he doesn’t know how to take care of you.

A giggle somehow manages to leave your mouth. “That’s cute.”

“What! No!” Jongho cries in horror, looking desperate now. “I’m not cute-” A disgusted glower paints his face as the last word passes his lips.

“Boy, shut up before I come over and shoot you myself!” The shopkeeper bellows from behind the counter, and Jongho slumps back into his seat, groaning in despair at your irrepressible smile.

“Forget I said anything.” His words are muffled against the table top.

The two of you sit in peace for a long moment. It’s silent, like how it was between the two of you before, but where there was discomfort, now there is a happy warmth that fills you from the inside. Maybe it is because you’ve lost your memories, but with every new person that you meet, they root and grow themselves in your heart.

“Jongho-hyung…” You suddenly speak up, breaking the silence you two had been enjoying. The young battlemaster raises an eyebrow as he looks over at you questioningly. “What song did you sing when I was tied to the mast?”

“Song?” He frowns, but you can see baby pink blossoming on his cheeks like cherry blossom petals. “I sing a lot. Do you remember the lyrics?”

You recite what you remember. “Born on the wrong side of the ocean…”

“Ahh.” A small, sad smile pulls at the corners of Jongho’s mouth, the look softening his serious expression as he glances towards the harbor. The sun has just begun to set, the rosy light casting Jongho in a halo of warm oranges and pastel pinks. “It’s an old song. My mother used to sing it to me when I was still a child.”

The look on his face is forlorn, a little happy, a little sad, a little wistful. His eyes seem to be looking at something so far away, gazing at some point in his past that you can’t see.

“Jongho-hyung… where is your mother?”

That snaps the maknae out of his thoughts, the smile falling from his face as he inhales deeply. “She’s dead now. Died of consumption a few years ago. Didn’t get the medicine she needed and left. She’s in a better place now.”

You blink once. “That’s sad.” The cream puff is finished off, and you lean back to look at Jongho. His gaze never leaves the ocean as he continues to speak.

“Dad died before she did. In a hurricane offshore. Never got to see a trace of him again except the smashed up remains of his boat.” He points to a piece of tattered white fabric he wears around his shoulders. “This is from the wreckage.”

His voice is thick with emotion, but his face remains solidly strong. You feel something stirring in your chest, something that seems to want to swallow your lungs whole. You frown and touch your chest. Is there something wrong with you?

“But enough about my sad backstory. What’s over is over, and what’s left for me to do is move on.” Jongho’s voice doesn’t waver at all as he thumps his chest. “They live on in here. I’ll live well for the two of them and never shed a tear again. Can’t let them be worried about me.”

His smile returns, a genuine and powerful one this time. For a moment, you’re so lost in it that you can barely breathe. Jongho is the epitome of strong. Not just physically, but in the heart, and in every sense of the word.

“Anyway, what about you, stowaway?” He cocks his head as he shoves a meat stuffed bun into his mouth. You look confused for a moment. What past do you have to tell? “What’s with that necklace around your neck?”

Ah. Your fingers reach up to stroke the silver chain resting against your delicate collarbones. Your only link to your past, the last thread you have connecting you to who you were before.

“I don’t know.” You murmur softly, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “I woke up with it.”

“I know Hongjoong-hyung said you’re an amnesiac.” Jongho looks at you firmly, but curiosity brims behind his eyes. “But do you really remember… nothing?”

You close your eyes. For a second, white dances behind your eyelids, the sound of sea crashing against the shore filling your ears and rain touches your face.

Then a single, unblinking red eye looms into your mind.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes fly open. You can still see it, a monstrous thing, a dark, hulking shape in the depths that has been forever chasing you… following you…

You’re not sure how Jongho will react right now if you tell him you could hear the voice of a giant squid monster which was chasing the Treasure, so you merely hold your tongue and shake your head.

Jongho is silent for a moment.

Then suddenly he rises to his feet, abruptly grabbing you by the arm. You follow, a little stunned by his strange change in demeanor, and Jongho whirls to look at you with resolution carved into his face.

“You’ve got whipped cream on your nose.” The young battlemaster swipes the sweet smudge off with a finger and licks it off, to your horror.

“That’s disgusting, Jongho-hyung.” You scrunch up your nose, but you’re not sure why he’s suddenly so eager to do something. Jongho begins pulling you somewhere, much to your surprise.

“Where are we going?”

“When I first came to Tortuga, I had just lost my parents and joined the crew.” Jongho tells you earnestly, leading you down past the harbor to a more lively, darker part of town by the shore. Many street vendors and shopkeepers with makeshift booths line the wooden docks, all offering some sort of rare, exotic wares, but Jongho simply brushes past all of them without a second glance. “And by coincidence, I visited a fortune teller.”

“I didn’t peg you for the superstitious type, hyung.” Is all you say as you take in the new environment all around you. The place is a little shady, with suspicious characters slinking away at every turn and dark, hooded men crouching behind corners. But with one glance from Jongho and they scatter, clearly intimidated by the way his fingers inch for the handle of his cutlass.

You remember what Yunho had told you about Jongho just earlier this morning.

He’s a great fighter and he has strong protective instincts. You’re probably safer with him than in the sickbay.

“I’m not superstitious.” Jongho tries to defend himself, but sees the look on your face and sighs. “There’s something different about this fortune teller. I never believed magic existed till I met San-hyung… but this fortune teller has a similar aura I get from hyung.”

You immediately understand what he’s talking about. Your master has a pulse about him that you’ve always been able to feel, like the warmth emanating from the sun and a gentle pulse that draws people to him, a comforting softness.

You’ve never seen San use his ‘inner energy’, as he calls it, but the feeling you get from him is no lie.

“But why do you want me to come to a fortune teller, hyung?” Nerves and a deep sadness twist within you. “There’s no point in knowing what’s going to happen. If I can’t remember my past, what’s the point of looking at the future?”

Jongho then stops you in your tracks, placing his hands on your shoulders. His eyes are both gentle and earnest at the same time, searching yours and for a second you can’t look away.

“You may not have a past yet.” The grin on his face is wild, brimming with confidence. “But we sure as hell are going to be your future.”


	12. The Fortune Teller

The two of you stop outside a dark, smoky cabin.

It’s dark now, the sun having sunk behind the waves a while ago, the moon taking its place in the sky. Shifting shadows are cast in the gloom of the shop, and the dead snakes hanging at the doorway really isn’t encouraging you to go in any further.

You turn to stare at Jongho dubiously.

“To be fair,” Jongho says as he looks over at the eerie, shoddy establishment with equally doubtful eyes. The rickety bamboo frame looks like it could collapse on itself any moment. “It didn’t look this creepy the last time I was here.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “Maybe we should go back-”

“There is no fear in stepping forward, only moving back…” A hiss comes from deep within the shack and you jump, hand clenching around Jongho’s wrist in a vice grip. A bead of cold sweat slides down your neck and you turn to the young battlemaster with a silent plea in your eyes.

He nudges you towards the entrance gently. “I’ll be with you. There’s no need to be scared.”

That does make you feel better about your chances of leaving the dingy building alive, but you still don’t feel very eager to step inside. With Jongho’s hand on your back, you step cautiously into the fortune teller’s booth.

The small space is dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering stubs of candles on the rough wooden table at the very back. Even as short as you are, you have to stoop underneath many of the strange things hanging from the ceiling. You hear Jongho’s muffled cursing behind you as he bumps into everything and anything in his way, things that you’re lucky to have been small enough to avoid.

There’s a small hearth at the side, coals still glowing red from a recently put out fire. Dried herbs and animal parts lie scattered everywhere on the floor, and to your left you see a stack of wooden cages stacked upon each other, every one holding some sort of rodent or gigantic spider. You inhale nervously and the pungent smell of burnt hair and animal excrement fills your lungs.

But there is no sign of the fortune teller.

You glance nervously at Jongho, who’s dusting the cobwebs from his shoulders. “It seems like she isn’t here-”

“Customers…” You shriek in horror as you see a pile of rags that had definitely been unmoving just seconds before burst into life, wheeling backwards as hysteria washes over you for a moment. Then Jongho catches you from the back firmly with strong arms, and calm washes gently over you once more. You catch your breath slowly.

“We’re here for a reading.” The young battlemaster’s voice is unwavering. You can’t quite make out her face underneath the tattered hood she’s wearing, but you can smell her breath all the way from across the table and see the light reflected in her near maniacal eyes. The fortune teller grins to reveal a mouth of yellowing teeth.

“Sit!” She demands, pointing dramatically a rickety seat in front of the table. You eye it doubtfully, unsure whether that can really hold your weight considering that it looks like it’s on the verge of collapse, but Jongho nods you forward.

Surprisingly, the seat doesn’t shatter under you.

“Fortune favours the fair.” The fortune teller leans across the table to take a closer look at you. You can count every single decaying tooth in her mouth, she’s much too close for comfort. Your skin crawls with goosebumps as you feel her eyes rake across your face.

“Don’t touch him.” Jongho snaps, his unyielding hand stopping the fortune teller in her tracks. She hisses at him, more animal than human, slinking back into her seat like a feline.

You clear your throat nervously, even though you’re honestly terrified at this point. You can feel phantom fingers brushing up your spine and neck and there’s an unsettling feeling in your stomach that feels like a coiling snake.

“You’re a fortune teller?”

“A magician, dearie.” The way she says it, so sickly sweet, sends a shiver down your spine. The room seems to drop in temperature. “It depends on what you want to know.”

“How much will a reading be?” Jongho cuts across her and the woman doesn’t look at him, eyes instead fixated on you. You don’t like it at all.

“You have a pretty face, my sweet.” The old hag croons, stroking your face with bony, coarse fingers. You resist the urge to scream out loud as ice creeps over in your veins. “I’ll give it to you free.”

Then a knife flashes out of nowhere.

This time, a scream does leave your lips, but then you realise that she’s only hacked off the end of your braid, leaving your hair tumbling around your face to above your shoulders in messy waves. Jongho’s hand clenches around the hilt of his cutlass. “One more time, magician, and the next thing getting cut is your neck.”

“You young ones are so skittish, like mice…” The wizened crone cackles as she hobbles to the fire, breaking a few twigs and setting them alight in a bowl. A strange, heady fragrance begins to fills the room, the air seeming to thicken as smoke spirals between you. You cough at the smell and spot the fortune teller sniffing your hair appreciatively.

You try your best to force down the bile in your throat.

With the same dagger she’d just used to cut your hair, she stabs an unfortunate rodent from a cage and you wince at its dying shriek. Its blood splatters across the table and seeps into the wood. You wonder exactly how many fortune and deaths it has seen.

The fortune teller then tears a sprig of dried plant from a bundle of herbs. Mistletoe, you recognise from your many lessons with San. She throws it over the fire and holds her hand out expectantly.

“Your finger.”

“She’s going to take my finger?” You whip around to stare at Jongho in horror, but by then the fortune teller has already grabbed your hand and yanked you forward.

To your relief, she simply pierces the tip of your index and squeezes three drops of your blood into the bowl. Then you hear San in your head lecturing you about the filth and dirt and grime and how you’re going to die from a thousand different illnesses and you shrink back into yourself, trying to clean the wound as well as possible as the fortune teller throws in a few strands of your hair, tucking the rest in her sleeves.

The fortune teller suddenly tosses everything in the bowl into the fire and to your shock, the flames turn bright green. You scramble backwards, nearly falling off your chair, but Jongho steadies you by the shoulders, hands warm against your freezing body.

“Watch.” He says seriously, and so you do.

The fortune teller leans over the fire, inhaling deeply for a long moment. When she speaks again, her voice is soft, disembodied, as if she is underwater.

“Oh nameless one…”

Your eyes fly wide with shock at her first words. How does she know that you have no name?

“Child of the sea… you’re missing something very, very important to you… The secret you keep will ruin the trust you have built…”

Goosebumps prickle on your skin. You thought this witch merely wove fortunes that people wanted to hear, but she seems like so much more than that. Her eyes slowly blink open to stare at you with wide, dark eyes.

“To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken in life.” The fortune teller shudders, her arms trembling from the effort of holding her trance. “The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself… I see a jewel resting in a jar of clay… Clay!”

“Clay?” You repeat after her, puzzled, but then she lunges for you before either you or Jongho can react. Her bony hands grab for your collar in a vice grip, her eyes searching your face hungrily. A scream leaves your mouth as you try to pry her from you.

“Let go of him!” Jongho snarls, but the little shack is too small for him to reach around you to remove the fortune teller’s hands. The old woman ignores him completely, fingers stroking at your cheeks and nose haphazardly.

“How beautiful you are.” She breathes almost reverently, completely ignoring your frantic struggling and fear creeps over your skin. “I never thought it was possible, that I would see one like you… One as perfect as you…”

What?

“What are you saying, you old hag?” Jongho snaps, trying to remove her from you, but her grip on you is surprisingly strong.

“Such a new creation, such a perfect work of art!” The fortune teller almost sobs, and at this point terror seizes you. “I can’t believe I got to lay eyes on a vessel that has only existed for a moon!”

Your heart stops beating inside your chest.

Jongho stills besides you, deathly silent. “What did you say?”

“Who made you?” She begs you, shaking you back and forth. You simply stare at her blankly, unable to comprehend what she’s saying. Made you? What did she mean, made you? As in your mother? The person who had given birth to you?

As if in answer, the necklace you wear around your neck slips out of your shirt, and everything stands still for a moment.

Maybe it’s because you’re so close to the fortune teller, but you see every expression that crosses her face. First curiosity, then recognition, then shock. Her eyes fly open, as if she’s just been struck by some sort of divine revelation and her pupils instantly dilate with raw fear, the black almost swallowing the brown of her irises.

The fortune teller shrieks and yanks her hands back from you as if she’s been burned. “You’re one of hers! Leave! Leave before she finds me!” You’re too shocked to move.

Hers?

“Let’s go.” Jongho urges you, clearly as stunned by the encounter as you are but in control of his wits a million times more than you’ll ever be. But you fight your way back to the fortune teller, who’s slumped in a pile of rags against the wall.

“Who is she? And what do you mean by ‘who made me’?” Your voice cracks at the last question, torment ripping at you from the inside. What did she mean, made?

“Leave me be!” The woman screeches and Jongho claps his hands over his ears. The people walking past outside must think that there’s a murder going on. “I have no wish to meet your mistress!”

Mistress?

Desperation snaps in you. You have no idea what she’s talking about, but you need answers to the hundred questions spilling over in your mind.

“Answer me or I’ll stay here till she comes for you!”

“You fool!” The woman wheezes, curling into a ball. “I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”

Deal.

“What deal?” You snap, furious. The one clue you have to who you are, and she’s unwilling to tell you what it is. You made a deal? A deal for what?

Sea witch.

Jongho clearly has had enough of this voodoo talk, because he pulls on your hand a little more insistently. “Come on, let’s go.”

“How do I find her?” You shout at the fortune teller, as you’re dragged out of the shop. “Tell me!”

The old crone meets your gaze one last time, her eyes crinkling with madness. “You don’t find her. She finds you!” She cackles aloud, shaking her head and rocking back and forth like a woman possessed. The glint in her eyes has turned crazed, unhinged, completely off her rocker. On the other hand, her voice remains strong and steady.

“But I’ll tell you one last thing, my love.”

You jerk forward, insistent on hearing whatever her last words are to you.

“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”


	13. We Need To Talk

“Master!” You burst into the sickbay, eyes brimming over with tears as you desperately search for that head of green hair that has grown so familiar to you. You ignore the stunned faces of some of the pirates who are getting their wounds treating, the concerned glances that some give you, only to see Seonghwa standing there with a basket of dirty cloths in his arms and a startled look on his face at the commotion.

Then he sees the tears tracks winding down your face and his expression melts into one of horrified concern, he puts the basket down and moves to reach for you.

You simply throw yourself into his arms without waiting for him and sob into his chest, openly weeping in full view of all the pirates in the sickbay. The cook staggers back a couple of steps from the force of your embrace, but manages to upright himself before the two of you go bowling over onto the floor.

Seonghwa is warm. He always has been. Gentle, kind, compassionate and tender-hearted. And you’ve never been so grateful for a man like him. He lets you cry, hands softly winding in your hair, a little confused as to why it’s suddenly several inches shorter and out of its usual braid. You hear Jongho’s heavy footsteps behind you on the wooden floor, and his face must say something because Seonghwa’s body stiffens, his embrace around you tightening just a little as he folds you into his arms.

“What did you do, Jongho?”

Seonghwa’s voice is deliberately neutral. He trusts Jongho, of course. But the last person you were with was indeed the young battlemaster and he knows Jongho is terribly awkward with new people. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jongho had said something silly on accident and ended up causing you to get upset.

But Jongho merely exhales uncomfortably, looking down at his boots. “We should talk about this in private.” His voice holds no room for argument.

Seonghwa frowns a little at this apparent need for privacy, long fingers gently stroking through your hair as your warm tears soak into his shirt sleeves. “Jihyun, help me call San and tell him to come to his room immediately.”

A tall pirate nods, rising to his feet. “Of course, Seonghwa-sunbae.” He moves off quickly, disappearing from sight. Seonghwa then puts an arm around your shoulders, sweetly ushering you into the backroom where you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of weeks and sits you down on San’s bed, wiping the tears from your eyes with a tender hand. Jongho follows behind, shutting the door firmly behind you.

You feel weak, boneless, as the words run through your mind again and again on repeat.

“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”

You reach out a hand. Seonghwa looks puzzled for a moment, but you think the experience must have at least made you and Jongho closer somehow, because he understands immediately and clasps your hands gently, almost timidly in his, as if afraid that you might break if he uses too much force.

Jongho probably could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, but he cradles your hand like it’s a newborn baby chick.

“Just before you get the wrong idea, hyung, I didn’t do anything.” The young battlemaster says firmly, but there is guilt lingering in his voice. You know it’s not because he did anything to you, but because he regrets making you visit the fortune teller in the first place.

Seonghwa frowns in confusion as he moves to light the lamp in the room. “Then why is s-” He coughs lightly as the smoke from the lamp gets into his eyes and nose. “Why is he so upset, Jongho?”

You curl up on San’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that can stop you from falling apart.

The maknae opens his mouth to explain, but then San enters the room.

His face is smoothed over, carefully blank, but you can feel the pulse of his energy spiking erratically, feeling more like a burning stove rather than a warm radiance. Jongho and Seonghwa must both feel it as well, because they both stiffen minutely.

“Hyung, we need to talk-” Jongho begins to say, but San ignores him and makes a beeline straight for you, sitting next to you on the bed and patting his lap.

“Here.”

You don’t decline the invitation, laying your head in his lap and curling up beneath the sheets like you do every time you get nightmares. You press your nose against his side, and immediately the smell of him fills your lungs. Green tea, honey, and floral notes of ylang ylang and lavender mixed with the odd herb he’s been experimenting with combine to create a scent that is uniquely his, one that never fails to calm you down even in the fiercest of storms.

His hand comes to rest in your hair, carding through the strands gently.

Only when he’s sure that you’re no longer in hysterics and on the verge of a panic attack does he turn to Jongho with sharp piercing eyes.

“So, would you mind explaining to me why my apprentice is in this state?”

You feel bad for Jongho, having to endure all this questioning by himself when he technically was only trying to help you and encourage you, but San shushes you the second you open your mouth.

“I want to hear this from him.” His eyes don’t leave the young battlemaster.

“Well, do you guys remember the first time I came to Tortuga, I visited a fortune teller?” Jongho asks slowly. His hyungs exchange looks, and then Seonghwa nods hesitantly.

“Why?”

“I brought him to visit the fortune teller.” Jongho mutters quietly, his voice small. You realise that even though Jongho may be the strongest, best fighter on board, he still submits himself to the authority of his older brothers. “And the fortune teller said some things…”

San’s eyes narrow as his fingers continue to brush through your hair. Seonghwa seats himself at San’s work table to listen to what Jongho has to say.

“She something about a jar of clay… and some secret that would ruin our trust in her…” Jongho mutters, shaking his head.

San’s fingers freeze in your hair.

“I mean… The secret that stowaway’s actually a woman isn’t quite secret, am I right?”

A terrified squeak leaves your mouth, momentarily pulling you out of your daze. You jerk up, staring at Jongho with wide eyes and your mouth hanging open in horror. Seonghwa shrugs in response to the maknae’s words.

“I did find out rather recently, so I suppose it’s no longer secret within us three then.”

You gulp. San stiffens slightly, but then you can feel his muscles relaxing next to you. “How did you find out, hyung?”

“When she hugged me earlier.” Seonghwa replies easily, much to your shock. Then he pauses, glancing at you hesitantly. “I could feel her… ah, chest through her clothes. I apologise deeply for any inappropriate actions I might have done under the impression you were a man.”

Your cheeks catch aflame as you stare at the cook in a mixture of both horror and embarrassment, your mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Jongho’s nose scrunches up at his words.

“That’s gross, hyung.”

Seonghwa sputters incoherently at his dongsaeng’s words, looking like a rapidly reddening tomato. “Well, excuse me for not knowing she was a woman! How about you say how you figured it out?”

Jongho halts in all action immediately, jaw working furiously. His own cheeks have started turning apple red, and he looks away to the side, mumbling under his breath.

“When the fortune teller grabbed her shirt, I saw-”

You bury your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment and scream. At this point, you don’t know what you are. Confused, shocked, mortified, everything. All you know you want to do is to crawl into a hole in the ground and slowly rot away, but then you then you remember you’re at sea in a ship and there is no hole in the ground for you to die in.

To your surprise, however, Jongho and Seonghwa don’t seem to be very affected by the fact that you are a woman. Jongho continues rambling on in spite of your mounting embarrassment.

“-her chest, okay? Well, not really her chest, but the bindings around her chest and I kind of guessed-”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” San covers your ears frantically before you can hear any more. “Let’s get back to the fortune teller bit. Jongho, do you remember everything she said?”

“Pretty much.” The young battlemaster turns to Seonghwa. “Hyung, do you think you could help me write it down before I forget?’

The cook picks up one of the stray quills on San’s worktable, pulling over a piece of blank paper. “Alright.”

Taking a deep breath, Jongho begins to recite the words from memory.

“Oh nameless one, child of the sea, you’re missing something very important to you.”

“Stowaway doesn’t have a name, so it does seem accurate.” Seonghwa mutters grimly, San nodding in agreement. The two of them are completely focused, intent on figuring out what the cryptic words of the fortune teller mean.

The sight warms you immensely despite the daze you’re in.

“And she is a pirate now, so the part of her being a child of the sea fits.” San adds, leaning his head on your shoulder. You shrug.

“She’s an amnesiac, so she’s missing her memories. We’ve solved the first bit. That’s good.” Jongho glances at the page as Seonghwa scribbles down their interpretation of the fortune teller’s words.

A frown tugs at his lips as he continues. “The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built. That’s the bit about her being a woman, isn’t it?”

Seas, it was weird hearing Jongho referring to you as her instead of he.

“I don’t see anything else that could be it.” San mutters thoughtfully, but Seonghwa cuts in.

“She could hear the voice of the sea monster that was chasing us the other time.”

Jongho’s jaw hits the ground. “You could do what?”

It almost amuses you how the young battlemaster is more shocked at the fact you could hear the sea monster’s voice as compared to the fact that you are a woman.

“Yeah.” You mumble under your breath, but Jongho’s eyes are huge with awe.

“That’s so cool!” For a moment, Jongho looks like the eighteen year old boy he is, still young, excitable, not quite a man yet, but he quickly catches himself and clears his throat. “Well, moving on. To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken into life. The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself.”

He glances around at all of you. “That sounds cryptic and completely unhelpful. And I have absolutely no idea what it means.”

“What trial do you think the fortune teller could be talking about?” San scratches at his hair, frowning as he racks his mind. Seonghwa shrugs, just as confused.

“Well then. I suppose we could just leave this here for now.” Jongho mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “A jewel resting in a jar of clay. That was when she went bat shit crazy and started shaking our stowaway here, demanding to know who’d made her.”

“Who made her?” Seonghwa questions, looking utterly bewildered as he jots them down. You feel your skin crawl at the words again. There seems to be some sort of significance to it that you can feel, something your mind screams at you to remember, but you can’t.

“She referred to stowaway as a ‘vessel that has only existed for a moon’, whatever the hell that meant.” Jongho supplies helpfully, and you feel San stiffen beside you.

Seonghwa looks equally uncomfortable as he glances at you. “A moon?” He repeats, hesitantly. You don’t know what the fortune teller was indicating when she said you had supposedly existed for a moon, but you don’t think she was referring to the silvery orb in the sky.

Your master frowns. “What I guess the fortune teller was referring to was a moon cycle. A vessel that has existed for a moon cycle.”

“Yes,” Seonghwa begins to argue, gesturing at you. “But how can she only have existed for one moon cycle?”

The two stare at each other for a while, both having some sort of internal battle as to what it could be. You tap Jongho’s arm frantically.

“How long is a moon cycle?”

At your question, Jongho swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. “A little over twenty eight days.”

You feel like someone has just slapped you across the face.

Twenty eight days?

Your face must be a real sight, because San and Seonghwa immediately rush to comfort you.

“It could just mean that you’ve been without your memory for that long.”

“Yes! I mean, you can’t be that young. Don’t worry about it. It must be interpretation.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, still in some sort of daze. “Right.” Seonghwa gives Jongho a chastening look for revealing something that affected you so much. The young battlemaster mumbles an apology under his breath.

Then San sighs, rubbing his temples. “Honestly, we should ask Yeosang for help with this. No one on this ship is as good with cryptic nonsense, long, complicated words and obscure references as he.”

Jongho nods agreement. “Sometimes I don’t even understand what hyung is saying.”

You nod slowly. To be honest with yourself, you don’t really know what you’d do without these people by your side. Even Jongho, who you’ve just begun to talk to today, has been nothing but infinitely kind and helpful to you. You almost want to slap your past self for being such a fool, for even thinking he could have a bad bone in him.

“Thank you.” Your words come out a little choked with emotion, but the three of them accept it all the same. San doesn’t say anything, but just pats your head as usual.

Seonghwa beams at you gently. “It’s no problem, stowaway. You’re part of the family now. We’d do anything in our power to help you.”

Jongho looks at you seriously. “Wait… but we forgot one last thing. The sea witch.”

Sea witch.

Seonghwa flinches while San shudders, shoulders curling inwards. You frown at the two of them, a little unnerved by their reactions towards the word. The sea witch can’t be very terrifying, can she? Magic tended to be nothing more than the arcane, and from what Jongho has told you, only rare people like San are able to use this inner energy to their benefit.

“What is it?”

“The sea witch.” San echoes, drumming his fingers on his thigh absentmindedly. “We should probably ask Yeosangie more about this before you start to get any ideas, but if the myths are true… the sea witch is a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find, surrounded by the sirens who serve her.”

“I read the legend of her when I was a child.” Seonghwa turns to you with a mixed look of both pity and worry. “The sea witch bargains with many beings, both supernatural and mortal, to make a deal. In the story I read, she gave a mermaid legs to be with the man she loved but took her voice.”

A deal.

Jongho meets your gaze, both your eyes drawn to the same object, the tiny crystal hanging at the end of your necklace.

The symbol of your bargain with the sea witch.

A headache starts throbbing at your temples, and you furiously rub at them, trying to ease the pain. Seonghwa notices almost at once and rises to his feet.

“We should let him-” He corrects himself. “-her rest.” San and Jongho nod agreement as they both rise to their feet.

“We’ll talk about this another day, apprentice.” San murmurs softly to you as you lie back on his bed, pulling the covers up to your nose. “We’ll talk to Yeosangie about this first, alright? He has a lot of books in Hongjoongie-hyung’s cabin, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Ok.” Your voice is small, and San gives you a warm smile before leaving the room, Jongho behind him.

But only Seonghwa lingers in the room for a moment, looking conflicted once more.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

The cook looks at you for a long, silent moment before he speaks.

“You should tell the crew you’re a woman soon.”

Your chest seizes up. Yes, you know that Seonghwa and Jongho didn’t especially mind that you were one, and neither did they begrudge you for keeping this secret, but you knew not everyone would be this understanding.

“Especially captain.”

You swallow nervously.

“I will.”

Seonghwa manages a last, weak smile at you before turning to leave. As you lie under the covers, you wonder what might happen if Hongjoong did take the fact that you were a woman badly.

What if he left you in some town like he’d promised to do the last time?

No. No. You couldn’t have that. Not when you’d just started finding constructive clues to your past, not when you’d just started gaining family.

You needed to wait. Not now. You couldn’t tell them now.

The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built.

It was a decision you would later come to regret.


	14. Dawn

Sweat drips from your forehead as you swing the wooden practice cutlass on deck in the same repeated actions Jongho and Yunho have drilled into you.

Left parry, right jab. Overhead swing, side slash. Dodge. Repeat.

Practicing is numb, mindless work. Honestly, you really hate it sometimes, but right now you’re ever so grateful for it. You take the time to organise your mind, your thoughts.

What do you do now?

Jongho, Seonghwa and San now know of your identity as a woman, and what you have learnt ever since your awakening. San is going to tell Yeosang about what the fortune teller had told you yesterday, and you may finally get some answers.

But something lingers on the edges of your conscience.

The sea witch.

The one who Seonghwa warned bargains with the mythical, the bridge between the supernatural and the mortal. And from the looks on San and Seonghwa’s faces, she didn’t sound like a person you’d want to meet.

Underhand swipe, stab.

“I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”

Sidestep, lunge.

A deal.

You hunch over on your knees, panting as you take a break for a moment. The sky is still a dark indigo, the stars splattered across the deep purple canvas fading ever so slowly in preparation for the sun to take over their role.

“-a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find-”

What had you been so desperate for as to turn to the supernatural? What could possibly be worth making a deal with the sea witch?

What had you gained?

You grip your sword tight once more, hate for all the hardships and agony your past self has put you through welling up inside of you.

You had woken up with absolutely nothing. You were completely alone.

Jab, slash.

What exactly had you given up?

Duck, stab.

Why did the fortune teller ask who had made you?

Wetness falls down your cheeks, but you don’t know whether it’s sweat or tears. Something about the word terrifies you. Why made? Why not ‘gave birth’? The way the fortune teller had spoken of you as if you are a piece of craft, not a human…

Why did she call the sea witch your mistress?

You toss the sword to the ground, panting from the exertion and the wild thoughts running through your head.

Did you sacrifice your memories?

“Hey, stowaway!”

You jump at the cheerful greeting, desperately wiping tears from your eyes that you hadn’t known were there.

“Yunho-hyung.” You internally curse the way your voice sounds like you’ve just swallowed a bucket of tar as the tall battlemaster makes his way across to you, his footsteps echoing abnormally loudly on the empty deck.

His hands are tucked into his pockets and his cheeks are apple red from the cold night air. Still, his grin is just as bright as it always is, and he stops next to you.

“Why are you up so early, stowaway?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumble back, shivering slightly. The sweat on your skin has started to evaporate, leaving a chill on your arms and neck. Yunho studies the cutlass on the ground, your puffy, bloodshot eyes and the downcast look on your face.

You open your mouth to explain, to come up with some stupid excuse, but Yunho merely smiles.

“Have you been in the crow’s nest before?”

“What?” You’re caught by surprise by this question, not something you’d have expected to leave his mouth. The lookout merely continues smiling at you, waiting for an answer patiently. “Well, no.”

“That’s good.” Yunho grins at you charmingly. When you frown at him, a little confused, he explains. “That means I’m gonna be the first one to bring you up there.”

Gesturing for you to leave your sword where it is, he takes you by the wrist, long fingers encircling yours completely, leading you to the foremast. Yunho then places your hands against the coarse, thick ropes of the rigging, gently closing your fingers around them.

“Are you scared of heights?”

“Not really.” You reply honestly, but you are a little worried that you might fall like the clumsy fool that you are. You crane your head back, looking upwards.

The crow’s nest is pretty high up.

“Are you afraid of heights, Yunho-hyung?” You ask. The lookout laughs, clearly amused at your silly question and motions for you to climb.

“I am a lookout, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to catch you if you fall.”

You stare at him nervously, placing a foot on the rigging. “But I had three pastries yesterday. And another chicken drumlet. And some of that pie Seonghwa-hyung baked before I left. And-”

Yunho waves your protests off cheerfully. “No worries, just trust me!”

Just trust me.

Turning back to the rigging, you suck in a breath and begin to climb. You’ve never worked around the rigging and masts like you’ve seen Yunho and Wooyoung do so often, instead staying closer to the deck like San and Seonghwa. The two are in the rigging so often, spending more time among the ropes than on deck, laughing and chatting away.

For a moment, you feel like you’re intruding on their space.

The climb upwards is a little tricky as the rope twists and flexes beneath you, but you’re determined to make it all the way to the top by yourself. Straining with the effort, you finally drag yourself feebly over the lip of the crow’s nest and flop into it, sweat dripping from you every orifice.

“That was a good first try!” Yunho cheers as his mop of brown hair appears at the railing merely seconds after you’ve crawled in. You stare at him in disbelief from below.

“I thought you said you were going to catch me if I fell!”

Yunho cocks his head at you curiously as he perches on the railing precariously, an inch or so from a bad fall back to the main deck. “I was! I only started climbing after you reached the top.”

Your jaw smashes into the ground.

Yunho gives you an easy grin, patting your head in encouragement. Really, what is with all your crew members liking to pat you on the head? You’re about to ask him why when he looks away from you, admiring the horizon with a smile.

“So, why the long face?”

At his question, you jerk a little in shock. He seems to be a lot more observational than you have given him credit for.

“I am the lookout, after all.”

You gulp.

“And yes, you said that out loud.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, but Yunho doesn’t take any offence at your words. Instead, he merely grins at you with a cheeky, boyish smile.

“How about you tell me why you had such a long face as apology, then?”

You puff out your cheeks. You feel like Yunho has just tricked you into coming up here to make you spill the beans about all of your deepest, darkest secrets, but of course you can’t tell him that you’re worried about what the fortune teller has told you. As much as you trust the members of the ship, you don’t know how they’d react if you blurted to all of them that you could hear the sea monster’s voice and that you were starting to get afraid of what the fortune teller had woven as your future.

So you try to keep things as vague as possible.

“Nothing much.” You attempt to play it off light, fiddling with the crystal at the end of your necklace as you close your eyes and lean back against the mast, trying to appear as calm as possible. “I was just thinking about my memories, you know. If I had a mother.” A dry laugh leaves your mouth as you think about the possibility of the sea witch being your mother. “Maybe I could have had parents waiting for me wherever my home is. Siblings, even.”

Yunho is silent for a while. Then he suddenly speaks up.

“Do you know what these are?” He points to the two silver rings braided into his hair. They’ve always just been there, from the very first day you’d met him down at the harbor of Raguza, so you’ve simply assumed that it is some kind of habit of his. Honestly, you haven’t given it much thought, so you shake your head.

“These are rings of victory.” Yunho says, his voice suddenly soft as he fingers the silver bands. You stare at them a little more closely. “I got one for my first victory… And the second one for my hundredth.”

There’s something delicate in the air, invisible but completely tangible. You don’t dare to raise your voice over a whisper.

“What victories?”

“Victories in the arena.” Yunho says the word ‘arena’ with so much bitterness, sadness, anguish that for a moment, you can almost feel his raw emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. “Before I joined the crew of the Treasure… I was a gladiator.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment.

Yunho has always been so happy, so cheerful, so happy-go-lucky, a literal ray of sunshine. You can’t believe that he could have endured such torment and pain in the past.

“I see.” Is all that leaves your mouth, but there’s so much more you want to say.

“I had a brother. His name was Gunho.” Yunho looks lost in the past, fixated on a dream, far, far away. “He was nicer, kinder, gentler. Always the better one of the two of us.”

You want to argue with that, but he continues before you can say anything.

“We were both sold into slavery by our parents. All we had was each other. I remember the first time he stepped into the arena, he was so scared to the point he kept shaking in his boots. I volunteered to go in his place. That’s how I got this.”

You watch with bated breath as Yunho pulls the collar of his shirt down to reveal a long, ugly scar at his shoulder, dangerously close to where his jugular is, as San has taught you. If the blade had been a couple of inches to the left, Yunho wouldn’t be here with you right now.

And that scares you, for some reason you don’t want think about.

You don’t know what to say. Why is Yunho sharing with you all this, something so close to his heart?

“I did everything I could to keep him safe. It was silly, now that I think about it. He was always a better fighter than me.” Yunho muses to himself in silent mirth, shaking his head as he shrugs the shirt back over his shoulder. “But I was the older brother. I was supposed to take care of him.”

You don’t like where the sound of this is going.

“But he’s gone now.” Yunho’s smile is brittle, as if it might break if you so much as touch it. His voice is nothing above a wavering whisper. “Dead and gone. And I wasn’t even by his side when it happened.”

“Why?” You find yourself asking, even before you can run it by your mind. “What happened?”

Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, clearly fighting to keep his emotions at bay as they play out across his face. Then he speaks, his throat tight.

“A patron admired me for my skill and bought my freedom, but not my brother’s.” Yunho’s words are soft, but clear as water and you hang on to every word. “I joined the Treasure to earn enough to buy my brother’s freedom… but by the time I returned to my hometown, Gunho was dead.”

His voice cracks ever so slightly even though the smile never leaves his face.

“Did you know? My brother died from the same illness as Jongho’s mother did.” Yunho adds on quietly, lost in thought. A heavy, crushing feeling sinks like a stone in your chest and you feel something prick at the corner of your eyes. You blink the feeling away in surprise.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, and you feel Yunho’s pain as if it’s your own. If you ever had family, like he had, and you’d lost them… The feeling is familiar to you, as if you’ve felt it before.

But something is different.

No… you didn’t lose him…

You left him behind.

Something bubbles in the back of your mind and your eyes fly wide with horror, you jerk upright to stare at Yunho. You try desperately to chase the thought, but when you shut your eyes, all you see is the same thing you always do.

White beach, the waves washing over your legs as you sit in the sand. Rain touching your face, storms at your feet.

Then nothing.

“Anyway, what I intended for you to hear is that there’s always a dawn, even to the darkest nights.” Yunho says quietly, his words gentle. “Even though I thought I’d lost it all when I found out about my brother’s death, I realised I gained a new family. You might have lost your memories, but at least you have us with you. You’re our family. You are someone to us.”

You are someone to us.

His hand closes around yours. You turn to look at him, eyes wet with emotion. He doesn’t face you, instead pointing at the horizon.

“Look.”

The sun is beginning to rise.

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence as the sun slowly emerges from behind the sea. The darkness of the sky flees as the rosy light chases it away, streaks of pink and orange painting the sky.

You don’t know how long you sit there till someone calls for you from below.

“Yunho-ah! Stowaway!” To your surprise, it’s Yeosang, but there’s something off about him. From up on the crow’s nest, you can see him fidgeting nervously hopping from foot to foot as he looks up at the two of you. He looks like he’s literally brimming with happiness.

“What is it, Yeosangie?” Yunho shouts back, your hand falling from his.

There’s a massive grin on the navigator’s face, even as he tries to fight it back.

“Captain wants to see us!”


	15. Drink The Night Away

Everyone is there.

Literally every member of the crew is gathered at the main deck, from Seonghwa, who’s not cooking the crew’s breakfast for some reason, to San, your master, who you know from experience is notoriously difficult to wake up in the mornings.

You try to catch your master’s eye, but San simply gives a wide yawn and clutches a stuffed toy dog closer to him while blearily rubbing at his eyes. Jongho simply looks like he’s already dozing off, his head repeatedly knocking into Seonghwa’s shoulder as he nods off before the whole cycle continues again.

Yeosang pushes you forward gently, and suddenly, before you, is the captain himself.

He looks the same as the last day you saw him, his presence as commanding as the winds that command the ship, vivid green eye burning with fire and the storms of the sea. His red jacket is just as striking in the sea of white and browns, and once again for some reason you can’t explain, you feel inexplicably drawn to him.

Mingi, his ever faithful quartermaster and bosun, stepped forward, calling for silence. That really wasn’t very difficult, considering it was the crack of dawn and nobody really had the brain capacity be talking much. In under half a minute, everyone has fallen still, the deck seemingly plunged into silence, quietly waiting for the captain to begin.

Captain Hongjoong’s eye doesn’t waver from yours when he starts to speak.

“Members of ATEEZ, crew of the Treasure.” His voice is steady, confident, assertive. There’s something that seems almost ceremonial about the way he’s speaking, as if he’s about to give a grand, well orated speech. You glance back at Yeosang for help, but the navigator’s attention is completely fixed on his captain. “We are all gathered here today for an important reason-”

Then he pauses for a moment and his eye glances through the crowd, doing a mental headcount more rapidly than you can see. “Wait, where’s Wooyoung?”

“Here, captain!” There’s a whoop from above you and you manage to duck just before Wooyoung’s booted feet slam into your skull and turn you into human pancake, he untangles himself expertly from the rigging he’s just swung over from and turns to grin at the disgruntled crowd. “Sorry I’m late!”

Then he ducks into the gathering before Mingi can scold him.

Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head before he continues, tone completely commanding. “As I was saying, we are gathered here today for an important reason. This day, we will have a new crew mate join our ranks.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then someone from the back cries out in surprise.

“Captain, you knocked up a town girl?”

Silence.

A conspiratorial whisper. “A baby’s on the way?”

Immediately the silence of the early morning is broken as the entire gathering of pirates erupt into uncontrollable laughter. To your surprise, you see the captain’s cheeks turn a bright, cherry red, almost as vivid as his jacket, before he’s spluttering incoherently in distress and fury.

There are wolf whistles and cries of ‘I knew you had it in you, captain!’

“I did no such thing!” Hongjoong hollers in red faced rage and embarrassment, but the crew only falls over laughing and guffawing at their captain’s indignant protests. Even Yunho, who was standing behind you, keels over wheezing, clutching at his belly and making sounds that remind you of a dying horse.

“Enough!” Mingi shouts over the din, but he doesn’t get far before he’s pressed a hand over his mouth, shaking with barely restrained chortles. “I’m sorry, captain.”

Hongjoong throws up his hands in resignation and merely decides to wait for his crew to stop laughing at him.

Eventually, the laughter dies down, save for the occasional giggle and snicker here and there. The captain’s face is still flushed pink, but he clears his head and attempts to continue.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Hongjoong glares at all his crew members, some of who are still chuckling behind their hands, “We are here today to welcome a new member, who is not my unborn and nonexistent child. But before we do that, we are going to name him first.”

Something wells up inside of your chest.

You.

He’s talking about you.

Just as you realise that, the captain turns to you beckoning you forward. Your eyes fly open and you glance behind you, as if there were anyone else on this ship with no name.

“Go on.” Yeosang nudges you with kind smile and you step forward as if in a daze. Hongjoong strides over to you, taking you by the shoulders as his eyes meet yours.

You can’t look away.

“Stowaway.” His voice is soft, wholehearted and genuine, but he has no need to raise his volume. The ship is completely silent except for the creaking of rope in the rigging, the gentle lap of waves against the side of the ship. You could hear a needle drop. “Exactly one moon ago, you literally stowed away on my ship. Mingi and Seonghwa found you in the cargo hold. You broke my quartermaster’s nose, fell unconscious in the middle of a rainstorm from a raging fever and had the audacity to be carried bridal style all the way from the main deck to the sickbay.”

You force down a gulp at his stern tone and Mingi’s shake of the head. The quartermaster’s nose has long come out of its splint, but there’s a little crookedness to it now that you’ve caused.

“I believed you to be a Royal Navy officer due to the coat you were wearing and your terrible story making skills, but you’ve proven to be a trustworthy crew member and apprentice to San.” His voice suddenly takes on a kinder tone. “You’ve saved my crew from the Kraken and survived your first battle on board.”

Tears prick at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.

“It is an honour to have you as part of my crew.” Hongjoong declares, eye fixed firmly on you. “And now, I’m going to bestow a name upon you, if you don’t mind.”

He looks at you so seriously that you realise he’s actually waiting for permission, not simply asking out of formality.

“Yes.” You manage to choke out, a thickness in your throat that you’ve never felt before. You’re going to have a name. “Yes, of course I don’t mind.”

“Four years ago, we did the same thing for another member of the ship. Today, we’re going to do the same for our stowaway.”

He lays a hand on your shoulder and gestures towards the crowd. To your surprise, your master steps out from the rest of the pirates.

“The last time, we gave the person a new family name of his own.” Hongjoong says, as San rests his hand on your other shoulder. “But this time, San has offered to give you his.”

Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and you turn to stare at your master, whose face is unreadable and blank as usual. He merely shrugs at you.

“From this moment on, you have a name.” Hongjoong declares, and suddenly the heavens shake as if on cue, thunder rolling through the sky. “I wish you all the best in recovering your memories, that you may find the truth of your past even though it may seem as unconquerable as the ocean.”

Your eyes fall closed at his sincere, kind hearted words. Tears slip past your tightly shut eyes at your captain’s words, but honestly at this point you don’t care anymore.

“I name you Choi Chin Hae, family of the ATEEZ crew.”

There’s silence all about you for a moment as everyone takes time to process their captain’s words.

The cheer starts off soft at first, a single person whispering it from the crowd. Then it grows in volume until it becomes a resounding echo throughout the harbor.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae! Chin Hae!”

The words drown out the sounds of your sniffling, and you feel San pull you into a tight embrace, whispering words of congratulations into your ear. Something feels right, an empty hole in your chest has been satiated after million of years.

A sob leaves you, your shoulders trembling as you try to keep it in. From the side, you see Hongjoong with a small smile on his face watching the cheers.

“Thank you so much, captain.” You whisper over the rowdy screams of the crew, who have now somehow managed to turn your name into some bawdy bar song. Somehow, Hongjoong hears you over the din.

“You’re welcome, Chin Hae.” Is all he replies kindly.

“Woohoo!” Wooyoung slings an arm around your shoulder out of nowhere, sending you staggering forward, a massive grin on his face. “Let’s party!”

And seas, do these pirates know how to party.

Because the first place they drag you to celebrate is a rowdy tavern in town.

“Get the alcohol flowing!” Yunho crows as the nine of you sit around a table; the same people who have been the most instrumental in your journey. Your master, San, your kind supporter, Seonghwa. The kind maknae, Jongho, the person’s whose nose you first broke the very day you stepped on board, Mingi. The sweet navigator, Yeosang, the cheerful lookout, Yunho. And of course, the captain himself, Hongjoong.

And the head gunner Wooyoung who’s kind of just tagging along for the free alcohol.

“And get the pretty ladies here, please!” The man laughs, waving cheerfully at one of the waitress. She blows him a kiss in reply.

Yunho turns to Hongjoong with a expectant smile on his lips. “Hongjoongie-hyung…”

The captain immediately shakes his head, a scowl twisting on his face. “No. No no no. You only call me Hongjoong when you want something from me and I always regret it. No way am I acquiescing to any of your stupid requests-”

Wooyoung slides into the seat next to yours, starting to open his mouth, but Hongjoong cuts him off before he can say a word.

“That includes you too, Wooyoung!”

Seonghwa chuckles as he watches the little scene go on. “It is a celebratory drink though.” Yeosang nods agreement as he glances at his captain.

“We are having a celebration, so maybe you could treat us to at least a drink each, Hongjoongie-hyung?”

Yunho and Wooyoung immediately slide behind him, trying to back him up with the full power of their two puppy dog eyes.

You watch with interest as Hongjoong’s stern expression cracks just a little down the middle. Yeosang adds a ‘please’ and you see every ounce of Hongjoong’s good, logical thinking just crash down a drain.

“Whatever.” He sighs, shaking his head and the two mischief makers exchange an exuberant high five.

“Waitress, one cask of the finest alcohol you have!” Wooyoung shouts across the din of the tavern and Hongjoong’s face immediately goes ashen.

“Wooyoung! I said one drink!” He yelps, rising to his feet to cancel the order, but Yunho tackles him back down as Wooyoung goes to fetch the alcohol. The two roll on the ground like a pair of children roughhousing in the mud, except that one is actually the Pirate King of the Caribbean and the other is a deadly ex-gladiator.

“That is technically one drink.” San shrugs as he shakes his head at the commotion.

You turn to him curiously. “Are you going to drink, master?”

The healer sniffs at the wooden cask Wooyoung is lugging back in distaste. “As I said before, I abhor the taste of alcohol, most of all rum. It is a vile drink that can turn even the most respectable of men into complete scoundrels. There’s a reason we use it to kill the disease causing creatures on our skin, you know.”

“San’s just a lightweight.” Wooyoung calls loudly over the noise of Yunho and Hongjoong both fighting to get the upper hand on the floor as he sets the cask down. The healer turns to give him a deadly glare.

Seonghwa winces in sympathy. “Shots fired.”

“What did you say, you little shit?”

Yeosang chuckles a little under his breath, looking at San. “Well, you can’t really take alcohol-”

“Let’s have a drinking game, right now!” You’ve never seen your master so pumped for anything, and you’d never have thought the day you’d see it would be because of alcohol. “We’ll play truth, dare or drink. Let’s see if I’m the one left drunk after this!”

“I’m on!” Wooyoung cracks open the lid, handing out the wooden mugs. “Come on, everyone! Let’s see who’s the last one left standing! Upright, at the least!”

Hongjoong finally clambers back into his seat, blonde hair mussed from the little fight and his eye patch askew. “What did I miss?”

“They’re having a drinking game. Or rather, we’re having a drinking game.” Mingi sighs under his breath, shaking his head at his crew mates as he takes his mug. “I suppose doing this once in a while is fine…”

Wooyoung snatches a glass bottle and places it in the middle of the table. “Let’s get the bottle rolling.”

You frown, a little confused. “What’s going on?”

The other eight glance at each other before Jongho explains. “Every time before they start drinking, they’ll have a game of spin the bottle. If the bottle lands on you, you need to tell a truth, carry out a dare, or just drink an entire tankard.”

Entire tankard? You eye the size of your cup doubtfully, unsure whether you can even finish it before the night ends.

“Since this celebration is in honour of you, Chin Hae, why don’t you spin the bottle?” Yunho calls as he fixes his hair, grabbing his mug. You carefully reach out and spin the bottle.

The glass bottle spins around in circles, a little wobbly, but in the end it finally settles on the captain.

“I hate this game already.” Hongjoong groans, turning to you. “Truth.”

You pause. Is there anything you really want to ask the captain?

Then something occurs to you, all the way back from when you’d first come aboard this ship.

“Captain… when I was sick and fell ill… were you the one who carried me to the sickbay?”

Hongjoong freezes for a moment. Then he fills his mug to the brim and knocks back the whole drink in a single gulp, choking out ‘next’.

It can’t have been more obvious if he’d slapped you in the face with a dead fish.

“But hyung-” San begins to say with a grin on his face, but his captain cuts him off.

“Shut up, San! You can’t say a word about it.”

Wooyoung and Yunho are in fits of laughter, Mingi and Seonghwa shaking heads at their captain’s terrible lying skills. There’s a warmth rising in your chest, a certain happiness. That captain may really have not hated you from the beginning at all.

San shrugs, but there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I mean, captain, when you were naming Chin Hae, you said something about being carried bridal style to the sickbay… I mean, nobody but the person carrying him could have known that, am I right?”

Hongjoong pauses a moment to think over his words. You can literally see the cogs in his head turning as realization dawns on him.

He slams his head into the table in mortification. “And I already drank the stupid drink. Damn, I hate this game.”

Wooyoung pats his captain on his back reassuringly, but there’s not a bit of sympathy on his face. “It’s alright, cap’n. I mean, all of us already knew except for Chin Hae here.”

Hongjoong pins San to his seat with a murderous glare.

“Moving on!” San chirps, suddenly too cheerful in spite of his imminent death looming over him. “Wooyoungie, it’s your turn!”

“Yeah!” The head gunner gets up and spins the bottle, the neck finally coming to rest on Seonghwa. The cook’s eyes widen momentarily. “Seonghwa!”

“Truth.”

Wooyoung frowns as he strains to think of a suitable question. Mingi sighs, sipping from his tankard. “This is stupid. They’re going to end up drunk anyway, honestly.”

“Remember what happened the last time Wooyoung got drunk?” San muses, and Yeosang snorts as he takes a drink.

“Well, I remember you being flat out wasted right next to him and that you woke up on the main deck butt naked because you ran all the way back to the ship from the tavern while throwing off your clothes and singing ‘nothing’s gonna hold me down’, all while Mingi and Seonghwa were trying to chase you down.”

You turn to stare at your master questioning. His face is carefully blank.

“I did no such thing.” He hiccoughs and swallows a mouthful of alcohol. “But I do remember what Wooyoung did. He flirted so hard with someone, fell in love and ran back to tell us he was leaving the crew for good, before he woke up next to a potted plant in his bed.”

You choke on your rum.

“Argh! I can’t think of one right now.” Wooyoung runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “Hyung, tell us your most recent secret!”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he glances over at you. You immediately know what he’s thinking about.

To your gratefulness, Seonghwa merely sighs and begins to fill his tankard. Yunho pouts.

“Aww, that’s no fun, hyung!”

The cook merely shakes his head with a serene smile on his face as he returns to his seat. “Our definitions of fun are very different. Yunho, it’s your turn.” The lookout eagerly spins the bottle.

And the bottle lands on you. Their eyes all come to stare at you expectantly.

“Uhh…” You keep your voice shaking from the nerves. “Truth.”

“If you were a woman…” Both you and Seonghwa almost choke, Seonghwa on his drink and you on dry air. “Which of us would you be with?”

You cough at the too accurate statement, but luckily for you, no one realises, all too busy extolling their own qualities.

“It’s going to be me.” Wooyoung insists, patting his biceps fondly. “I mean, look at these guns, baby!”

Mingi snorts as he takes a sip. “Sorry, Wooyoung, but the only guns you have are back on the ship.”

The entire table dissolves in laughter.

“Burn!” Yunho crows, waving his tankard around. You dodge to avoid the alcoholic spray. “But Chin Hae, you still haven’t answered my question!”

You pause to think about this for a moment.

“Well, if I’m honest… It’s probably Master.”

San grins at Wooyoung, who looks like he’s just been struck dumb. Then Wooyoung speaks, his voice thoughtful.

“But technically the two of you have the same surname, so isn’t that like incest?”

There’s silence as everyone glances at each other. You stare at your master in horror.

“And wouldn’t Jongho be like San’s brother or something since he’s a Choi too, so would Jongho be Chin Hae’s brother in law-”

“Okay, let’s drink!” Yunho shouts before the conversation can get any weirder, and everyone happily acquiesces.

Over the course of a few hours, you watch as the tavern turns into complete madness.

Seonghwa, Mingi and Yeosang are drinking quietly and speaking in soft tones, while your captain and master are both singing ‘baby don’t stop’ at the top of their lungs, attempting some terrible dance along the side.

Jongho’s at your side, shaking his head at their shenanigans as he downs tankard after tankard, trying to drown his life problems and Yunho and Wooyoung are long gone, attempting to flirt with anything that even remotely moves or breathes.

And they’ve somehow already started a fire in the kitchen, which the staff have had to desperately put out.

“Hey, Chin Hae.”

You glance up to see the gunner, Wooyoung, standing there. You’ve never really talked to him much, after he abandoned you and Jongho on his little excursion with his lady friends, so you’re a little confused to why he’s speaking to you now.

He looks abnormally serious.

“If this is about why I didn’t choose you for the Truth thing earlier, I’m sorry-”

But he doesn’t even acknowledge your words, pulling you out of the tavern by the hand. You’re confused, but you follow him to one of the back alleys. He stops to rummage in his pockets, before producing something long and slender wrapped in a velvet bag.

“This is for you.” He says, so earnestly that you’re puzzled for a moment, but you take the small gift from him and open it.

A beautiful, silver hairpin slides out from the soft velvet.

A gasp falls from your lips. It must be extraordinarily expensive, the hairpin is made of the finest silver with exquisite, elaborate detailing on the pure metal. At the end is the main piece, a sea flower, its petals wrought with fine silver, a single, well polished aquamarine stone set in the very centre.

“Do you like it?” Wooyoung asks softly, as if afraid you might reject it. You’re stunned beyond comprehension, turning the beautiful piece of jewelry in your hand carefully, afraid that it might break.

“Yes.” You manage to choke out, suddenly a little emotional. No one else has gifted you with such a precious thing before. Then you start to panic. Has he found out that you’re a woman? “Yes… but why?”

“Remember the time you went to town with Jongho and I?” Wooyoung smiles genuinely, his eyes crinkling to little crescent curves. “You were looking at the hairpins like you really wanted one. It’s a pity you can’t wear it now though, your hair is too short.”

“But it must be expensive.” You breathe in disbelief, tracing your finger down the side of the cool metal. Wooyoung shrugs, a cheeky grin on his face.

“The money I bought it with was clean.” You give him a flat stare.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” He laughs, as you gently slide the pin back into the velvet bag. The you look at him as earnestly as possible and flat out bow to him as deeply as you can.

“Thank you, Wooyoung-hyung.”

“You’ve just gained a name and joined the crew today.” The purple haired gunner’s face is soft in the moonlight, accentuating his handsome features like magic bringing a carved statue to life. “So happy birthday, Chin Hae-ah.”

Happy birthday.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, before the back door to the tavern bursts open and Seonghwa, San and Jongho burst out in a panic.

“Don’t flirt with Chin Hae!” Jongho splutters, but Seonghwa trips on the stair and falls onto the maknae. The two go tumbling to the ground in front of the two of you, much to your shock. San steps proudly on the two of them like some sort of disapproving parent.

“Don’t you dare defile my precious apprentice!” The healer declares, clearly drunk because he’s talking to the potted plant at the side rather than you and Wooyoung. Then he shakes the plant vigorously, dirt and leaves flying everywhere. “You hear me, Wooyoung?”

“Come on, I don’t look that ugly…” The gunner says as he helps Seonghwa and Jongho to their feet. Seonghwa dusts himself off, giving you a concerned look. Your heart brims at their thoughtfulness.

“Are you alright, Chin Hae? This strange man wasn’t bothering you at all?”

Wooyoung shrieks in fury at not being recognised. “I am your crewmate! And I’m not such a lowly person to prey on my own crewmates! I love my pretty ladies, excuse you!”

“Yeah, he was just giving me something.” You reply softly, slipping the pin inside your pocket as Jongho tackles him back into the tavern, lecturing him about irresponsible men and sexual predators. Seonghwa nods, pulling San away from his potted plant even as he struggles to continue threatening Wooyoung.

“If I catch you trying to screw my apprentice over again, the next time you get injured I’m patching you up with fishing hooks and barnacle juice-” He squawks as Seonghwa picks him up gently from the back. “Let me go, you fiend!”

“Why is Wooyoung-hyung being so nice to me, though?” You wonder aloud, as the three of you turn back to the tavern, San slung over Seonghwa’s shoulder like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

Seonghwa turns to where you and Wooyoung had been standing with a sad, wistful smile.

“It’s probably because Wooyoung knows what you’re feeling. He understands, after all.” The cook says quietly, his expression fond and you can feel the brotherly love Seonghwa has for his younger crewmate.

You frown at his words. “Understands what?”

Seonghwa’s smile is heartbreaking.

“What it is like not to have a name.”


	16. The Noose

The three of you are walking along in town.

Unsurprisingly, after the crazy celebration the night before, majority of the crew had woken up with massive hangovers, most retching over the side of the ship or trying to nurse pounding headaches. To be honest, the only ones who weren’t drunk were you, Seonghwa and Mingi.

Technically, Yeosang hadn’t been drunk either, but he had left for town earlier in the morning to go search for Wooyoung, who still hadn’t returned to the ship. When you had started to worry, Yeosang had simply reassured you that this was normal Wooyoung behavior, and he’d have their head gunner back on board before the ship set sail.

The biggest problem was, however, the fact that the ship’s resident healer was also suffering from a hangover.

“You’re such a lightweight, master.” You had chided him this morning as he groaned in his bed, half buried in a mountain of stuffed plushies. “Everybody needs you to cure their hangovers, you know?”

“You can do it, apprentice.” San mumbled weakly from beneath a pig stuffed toy. “You have a good master.”

“Red ginseng, lemon and ginger tea and prickly pear cactus.” You recalled diligently from your studies, glancing at the lump that was your master. “Am I right?”

The only answer you got was a snore in response.

So, that explains why you, Seonghwa and Mingi are together, walking along the town’s marketplace, searching for a hangover cure for your poor crew mates. Seonghwa had offered his services to help you carry the groceries back, while Mingi simply didn’t want to get in the way of his crewmates’ projectile vomiting.

You don’t blame him. The stench was absolutely awful.

“So, what are you looking for?” Seonghwa asks as you make your way through the crowd. There’s a soft buzz in the air, a little subdued, but you chalk it up to being early in the morning and that nobody is quite awake yet.

“Opuntia, or prickly pear cactus.” You tell him as you weave through the throng of people selling their wares at every corner of the long street. “Its fruit helps to ease hangovers, so that’s what I’m looking for.”

“Anything else?” Mingi asks, checking through his coin pouch. As the quartermaster and also the treasurer, all funds go through him before being spent.

“Lemon, honey and ginger.” Bending over to check out some of the fruits, you study a lemon carefully for any defects and put them in your basket. “I’m also looking for red ginseng to reduce hangover severity, but it’s an eastern root herb, so it may be a little difficult to find here.”

“We are in the Caribbean, after all.” Seonghwa remarks, using his superior height to his advantage as his eyes scan the multitude of stalls selling every sort of exotic plant, fruit, and even animal. “I do recall seeing a shop selling eastern herbs the last time I was here, though.”

“Ah, Master did tell me to make sure we stock up on eastern herbs if I found any!” You chatter excitedly, turning to Seonghwa. “Did you see any worm grass (cordyceps) or fish bladders (fish maw)?”

Seonghwa nods, a smile blossoming on his face. “Yes! I can’t believe I even found some dried black mountain ants there!”

Mingi stares at the two of you with a weirded out look on his face. “I’m not even going to ask any questions. None at all.”

“There, I see it!” Seonghwa points over the heads of the crowd at a stall tucked all the way at the end of the street, his grin widening. “We did it, Chin Hae!”

The two of you exchange high fives and dash for the stall faster than Mingi can blink. He simply sighs, following the pair of you at a more sedately pace, shaking his head dryly. “Are all cooks like this…?”

When he finally does catch up with the two of you, you’re gushing over the different herbs and spices with Seonghwa, picking up a piece of black root that looks suspiciously like a thin, black stick. You hold it to Mingi’s nose.

“Hey, Mingi-hyung, look what I found!” Mingi frowns as he stares down his nose at it, going a little crossed eyed. It’s black, thin and looks rather boring. Mingi doesn’t understand why you’re so excited over it at all.

“A stick?” He answers, a little befuddled to what it could be to get you so excited about it. Seonghwa clucks his tongue disapprovingly, reaching to take the stick from you and waving it in front of Mingi’s face.

“No, Mingi.” The cook shakes his head dramatically, brandishing the stick as if it is the cure to all the world’s troubles. “This wonderful, powerful herb is the cordycep!”

Silence.

“It looks like a stick to me.” Mingi grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. Honestly, he’s never been one for herbs and medicines like San is, but that’s why they have San and Seonghwa and now you, right?

“Yes, but you don’t get it!” You cry in horror, waving the black stick at him. “The cordycep is a worm-”

The quartermaster freezes, his eyes widening as he takes in the black thing so close to his face.

Then he screams like a ten year old girl and dives behind a stack of barrels, as if you’ve just pulled a musket at him.

“Uhh, Seonghwa-hyung?” You turn to the cook, who’s simply shaking his head in amusement.

“He’s afraid of insects and the like.” Seonghwa nods at the too tall shape that is Mingi crouching behind a cask of alcohol, his eyes peering over at the worm in your hand like a cat staring down a bath of water.

You can’t help but laugh at the sight as you turn to the shopkeeper and order a tael of cordyceps, red ginseng and ginger. Honestly, you would have never thought that the silent, strong quartermaster was afraid of insects.

The shopkeeper smiles at you. “Know your herbs, do you, dear?” She packages the dried herbs into paper and ties each up with a red string, before passing them to you. Each package is worth its weight in silver or more. “A gold coin and three silvers.”

Mingi carefully counts out the money before diving back into the relative safety of his barrel fort.

“Honestly, Mingi-hyung.” You say, going over to him. He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the paper package that he knows has the cordyceps inside of it. “These are dead worms. The cordyceps are actually just fungi that grow on the worms.”

“Dead, alive, stuffed with mushrooms, worth a thousand golds, I don’t care.” Mingi hisses, eyes still trained on the bag like he’s ready to fight them. “I hate insects.”

You and Seonghwa burst out laughing at his hostile tone.

“Alright, alright.” Seonghwa steps towards the quartermaster. “Let’s get back to the ship and brew up a nice lemon honey ginger tea for the rest, shall we-”

Suddenly, a small boy shoves into you, knocking you to the side abruptly before dashing off. To your horror, you feel the package of herbs being torn from your fingers, the force leaving rope marks on your skin as you stumble to the ground, hands barely saving you from a nasty fall.

“Hey!” Mingi shouts, but the boy is already fleeing. He glances at Seonghwa. “Hyung, you and Chin Hae take the other way from the square, I’ll cut him off.” Then he pauses for a moment, staring at the cook, his gaze softening in worry. “Will you be alright, hyung?”

That seems like a strange question to ask, but Seonghwa must understand what he’s talking about because he nods, already pulling you in the opposite direction towards the town square. “Don’t worry about me!”

The two of you dash through the street, where people are filing out of their houses. It’s rather easy to move, considering that everyone is moving towards the town square, the same direction the two of you are. You simply move with the flow, following the crowd to the main square.

“There must be quite some commotion happening.” Your crewmate huffs for breath as the two of you tear along the town, bumping into several other people and apologising furiously. You’re sure one of them even curses you rather creatively in his native tongue.

“There are a lot of people today.” You pant, glancing around you as the pair of you finally emerge in the square. There weren’t this many people the last time you and Jongho had come to town, so you’re a little puzzled. “Why-”

Suddenly, the ringing of the town bells fills the air.

You’re instantly jerked back by the hand on your wrist and you nearly stumble to the ground. You turn back to stare at him urgently. “Seonghwa-hyung, we need to hurry!”

But Seonghwa merely stands still, face bloodless, lips moving without sound. You’ve never seen him like this, so afraid, so petrified with fear.

He looks so emotionally raw, bloody, haunted by the ghosts of his past.

You turn to look at Seonghwa in worry. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

“Hyung? We should be going.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His eyes are wide and unfocused, dark pupils dilated with fear, his breathing erratic and irregular. You tug at his hand once more, only to jerk back in shock, it’s slick with cold sweat.

Your blood turns to ice inside you as you take Seonghwa’s face, cradling his cheeks with your hands. Your voice is gentle, afraid of pushing him over the edge into whatever abyss he’s dangling over.

You’re terrified.

“Hyung? What’s wrong?”

His breath comes out in shallow pants, chest heaving. He doesn’t look at you. His eyes are fixed on something behind you, and you turn to see what could have possibly caused him to react in such a manner.

“-and I hereby declare the sentence will be carried out now.”

There’s the sound of a lever being turned, the squeak as the trap doors swing open.

And the noose jerks taut.

A soft whimper leaves Seonghwa’s mouth, and suddenly he squats on the ground like a small child, hands over his ears, shaking his head desperately as he whispers the same words again and again under his breath.

“Hyung!” You cry out in horror and panic, kneeling next to him to wrap your arms around him. What do you do? What’s happening to Seonghwa-hyung? He barely seems to be aware of your presence anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers between soft, quiet sobs, raw and hoarse, from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re completely confused to why he’s apologising to you for a moment, until he begins to mumble names you’ve never heard under your breath. “I’m so sorry, mother, father, Hyunjung, Ha Rin.”

The last word is a wail, a cry of utter torment, so desperate that it yanks at your heartstrings, demanding you to do something, anything! But you don’t know what to do besides embracing him, watching him rock back and forth on his haunches like a deranged man.

There are tears winding down his face and you raise your hands to wipe them away as fast as you can. The sleeve of your shirt soaks with warm wetness, and suddenly, that same, tight agony wells up in you as well.

A single tear spills down your cheek.

“Seonghwa-hyung-” You manage to croak, your throat thick from unshed tears, but the older man merely stands as if in a daze, hands still over his ears as if that can stop him from hearing the sounds of the man at the noose slowly fading from this world.

Then he runs, tearing away from you without looking back.


	17. Ghosts of the Past

San looks over your hands gently, turning them over in his. His fingers trace the scrapes your fall on the cobbles have left behind, and he shakes his head in disapproval.

Then he lets your hands rest on the table of the sickbay and picks up a clean cloth with tweezers, soaking it in rum before wiping your hands down with it, removing any small pieces and blood still remaining on them. Your palms sting, but it’s nothing compared to the anguish in your heart.

“What happened?” San murmurs softly as he works on your wound. You remember Seonghwa had mentioned that San was a better healer of the heart than he was of any physical ailment, but the thought of Seonghwa’s once cheerful, smiling face twists at your chest and lungs like a poisonous vine.

The lump in your throat refuses to go away.

“I don’t know.” You reply in all due honesty. Truly, till now you still don’t understand what had happened to the gentle, kind-hearted cook, but you can only piece together what you have guessed from the incident earlier.

Seonghwa was afraid of the gallows.

Yunho has taught you that the brightest smiles can hide the most bitter tears, but you’ve never expected that the man who’d first treated you with such kindness has suffered so much.

San continues staring at you for a while. Then he finally puts down the cloth and whispers to you in a soft, secretive tone.

“Hey, look at this.”

You frown in confusion, but San places a single finger on your torn skin. Closing his eyes, you see his brows furrow in concentration before a tingling feeling starts to blossom across your hand from where San’s fingertip touches yours, warmth chasing the slight sting in your hand away. You feel as if you’ve dunked your hand in a warm bath, the heat emanating from San’s finger too real to be a mere figment of your imagination.

Then it happens.

Fascination washes over you as you stare at your hand in wonderment. The bleeding slows gradually and finally stills, before you watch the skin and damaged tissue steadily knitting itself back together like a spider’s web. In the end, the entire wound closes, leaving the skin of your palm a soft baby pink.

Your mouth falls open.

“Master, did you just-”

“I’ll be teaching you this over the next few days. Remember, don’t ever attempt this without me. It’s potentially fatal if you don’t know how to do it. Do your best to learn it fast.” San’s smile is a little sad, a little forced. Your initial excitement fades at your master’s clear unease. “I get the feeling we might need it.”

Your fingers brush the silver hairpin tucked securely in your belt for good luck. You don’t like the sound of that.

You know what your master is implying, that there will be much conflict happening soon. But you don’t like to admit that it may be coming already. You and your master sit in momentary silence, both preparing yourselves for what may be to come.

“Sanie, Chin Hae.” The two of you turn to the person who’s come knocking on the sickbay’s door. It’s Wooyoung, purple hair rumpled, rouge smeared on his clavicle and dark circles under his eyes from yesterday, but the unusually grim expression on his handsome face shows he isn’t exactly reminiscing happily about night before. “Captain wants to see us in his cabin, now.”

His tone gives no room for argument.

“Got it.” San rises to his feet, his expression neutral. You only know that there’s unease flickering in his eyes from the way his shoulders are tensed. Since you and Mingi have returned from desperately searching the town for Seonghwa, you’ve found out from Wooyoung, who’s just arrived himself with Yeosang, that Seonghwa had dashed up the gangplank in tears, all alone and ignoring the concerned shouts of his crewmates, before locking himself up in the kitchen galley by himself.

Ever since then, Hongjoong and Yeosang, as the most level headed of the lot, have been discussing what to do about this in the captain’s cabin, instructing for no one to enter while the meeting is still underway. Seonghwa might be only one person, but he means a great deal to many of the crew on board and for the whole afternoon, there has been a gloomy air settling over the ship, the deck unnaturally quiet and subdued.

Your mind has been filled with worry for the cook the entire afternoon, but then San brought you down to the sickbay to get away from the stress of it all. The initial concern and panic has worn off a little, but you can still your anxiety lingering at the back of your mind like an itch that can’t be scratched.

“Is Seonghwa-hyung okay?” You ask feebly, gripping the silver hairpin tight as the three of you make your way to the captain’s cabin beneath the quarterdeck. Wooyoung shrugs, mouth drawn into a thin, concerned line.

“I don’t know. Yunho’s with him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, but…” His voice trails off as you stop outside the captain’s cabin. Wooyoung raps sharply on the door and you hear the captain call ‘come in’ from inside.

San pushes the door open and the three of you crowd into the room. Captain is sitting at the desk, massaging his temples with his fingers as he indicates for Mingi to lock the door behind you three. His blonde hair is falling out of its usual mullet, mussed and uncombed, as if he hasn’t had the time to do anything else this morning. You sit on the bed, sandwiched between Wooyoung and San, while Yeosang and Mingi stand around, looking equally tense and uncomfortable.

All three of them have dark rings around their eyes and grim, troubled looks on their faces. You can’t believe it was barely a night before that you had been drinking together, celebrating your integration into the crew, but this is your present now.

“Chin Hae.” Captain Hongjoong addresses you first and you snap to attention, back straightening as you look at your captain. His face is lined and etched with worry, so painfully obvious you almost wonder if Captain can actually feel Seonghwa’s internal agony and turmoil. “Can you tell us what happened today morning after Mingi left the two of you alone?”

You nod hesitantly. It only happened this morning, so the memory is still fresh in your mind, but the image of Seonghwa’s grief stricken face, how alone the two of you were and worst of all, your inability to do anything, weighs on your mind almost crushingly.

“Mingi-hyung, Seonghwa-hyung and I were shopping in the marketplace for herbs when someone bumped into me and snatched the herbs.” You begin, recalling the event to your mind. “Mingi-hyung said to go around to the town square to cut the thief off, so we did, but then when we reached the town square Seonghwa-hyung saw the hanging and suddenly started panicking and I didn’t know what to do and-”

Wooyoung’s hand is on your shoulder before you even realise that your breathing has started to turn irregular. “Breathe, Chin Hae.” His voice is as commanding as steel, yet as soft as velvet. San nods at you empathetically, rubbing circles into your back as you try to keep your breathing steady.

“I ran over as soon as I heard the bells, but I was too late.” Mingi says grimly, shaking his head, eyes downcast as if he personally blames himself for this happening. “I could have been there. I should have been there.”

Silence.

“I should have known what to do.” You murmur under your breath, a lump forming in your throat. There’s something lingering deep in your chest, you realise. It hurts more than empathy, eats you away from the inside more painfully that jealousy.

Guilt.

“None of this was your fault.” Yeosang says quietly, his voice almost cracking, but he speaks it like it’s a fact and not merely his opinion. “Especially not yours, Mingi.”

“It’s my job!” Mingi almost snarls, a glassiness to his eyes that makes you feel like crying from shame. The two of you were there, you should have protected Seonghwa, kept him safe. “That’s why you assigned me to follow Seonghwa-hyung around whenever we’re in town to keep this from happening, and look what I just did! I left his side for some goddamn cordyceps! As if this could buy back Seonghwa-hyung’s peace of mind!”

He throws the bag of herbs to the ground.

You don’t even realise you’re shaking from barely restrained sobs until San wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side embrace. He doesn’t speak, knowing no amount of words can change your mind about your failure at this point, but instead giving you the physical comfort you need.

“Mingi, keep your cool. You’re scaring Chin Hae.” Captain’s voice is cold and detached, leaving no room for disobedience. Wooyoung nods in agreement. The captain continues speaking. “And regarding Seonghwa’s problem, Yeosang and I have been discussing whether to do something or not. A plan, if you will.”

Mingi echoes your thoughts. “Plan?”

The navigator nods, a little jittery but face set in determination. “We’re sailing to Nassau.”

The word means nothing to you, but you can feel Wooyoung and San stiffen. Mingi gapes at his captain, as if he didn’t hear him right the first time.

“What?”

“We’re sailing back to Nassau. We’re going to find the person that got Seonghwa’s family hanged on false charges, and if Seonghwa so wishes, I’m sending him to hell.” Hongjoong elaborates, a little more clearly but his voice as sharp as the edge of his cutlass. “That’s the closure Seonghwa needs.”

The person that got Seonghwa’s family hanged on false charges.

“What if we sail back and Seonghwa-hyung has a relapse just like last time?” Wooyoung interjects nervously, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. But San shakes his head.

“He’s gotten stronger. It’s been six years, after all.”

“How do you know?” Mingi spits back, but your master replies without a trace of doubt in his voice.

“Ever since Chin Hae joined us, he made the choice to sleep below in the main hold instead of in the sick bay in my room.” Your eyes fly open, you’ve just remembered that your bed, the one you sleep in now, used to belong to Seonghwa. You open your mouth to apologise, but you master continues speaking. “He said he didn’t want to rely on my sleeping incense anymore, and that he needs to face his fears. Chin Hae coming was just a catalyst for him to take that first step.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. This whole time, you had no idea…

“I believe that he’s growing stronger.” Yeosang states, nodding his head. “In the past, Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t sleep without that steak stuffed toy San gave him, but when Chin Hae came, he told me to lock it in strongbox because he was going to be in the hammocks and wouldn’t need it anymore.”

Part of you is honestly struck dumb. The entire time you’d been on ship, Seonghwa-hyung had been trying to turn his life around, and you had no idea at all.

“So there’s that, Mingi and Wooyoung.” Hongjoong ends off the debate smoothly, fixing the pair with piercing stares. “Are you ready to accept the plan now?”

Wooyoung simply sighs while Mingi nods reluctantly in agreement. Then you pipe up nervously.

“Captain…”

Immediately, everyone in the room turns to look at you, and you wish you’d just kept your fat mouth closed. But since everyone’s expectant eyes are already on you, you simply continue to speak your mind.

“Can I… talk to Seonghwa-hyung?”

To your surprise, the captain doesn’t question your request, simply rising to his feet. “It’s no problem at all. I was intending on talking to him myself. Come with me.”

San gives your hand a squeeze and a worried look. Do you want me to come with you?

You shake your head, squeezing it back as you stand up and follow your captain out of the cabin. The two of you walk in silence down to the galley.

“I’m sorry this had to happen the day after you got your name.” He says softly, and you turn to look at your captain. His cheeks are slightly sunken, mouth turned downwards in a worried frown. You’ve never seen your captain so worried, so concerned.

You wonder if he’d do the same for you.

“It’s fine.” You reply quietly, shaking your head as you climb down the stairs to the galley. “Seonghwa-hyung is more important to me than any celebration.”

When the two of you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see Yunho pacing in front of the kitchen door like a caged tiger. He sees you, and your heart almost breaks when you see the lookout’s face drawn with exhaustion and worry.

“Captain. Chin Hae.” He sounds spent, both physically and emotionally, but he straightens up while blinking the weariness from his eyes. “Do you need me for something?”

“Go take a nap, Yunho, you look like you need it.” Captain pats the lookout on the back, but Yunho shakes his head desperately, as if trying to clear his mind.

“But I need to be here.” His protest is weak and worn, like he’s about to keel over any second. The captain shakes his head.

“Chin Hae and I will be here. Don’t worry.” He reassures the taller man and all at once you see Yunho’s shoulders sag from the relief.

“Oh.” Yunho tries hard not to sound too relieved, but he can’t help the yawn that spills from his mouth. “Thanks, cap’n.”

With that, he stumbles past the two of you and staggers up the stairs, out of sight.

“Seonghwa-hyung?” You move to the door, rapping hesitantly on the wood. It’s the first time you’ve ever been denied entry to the kitchens and in your mind’s eye, you see all the happy times the two of you have had together in the galley, the first time he taught you to use a knife, the incident in which you’d nearly burned the kitchen down, the time you’d mastered cooking Seonghwa’s favourite grilled steak. “It’s Chin Hae.”

It’s silent for a moment and you turn to glance at your captain in a panic.

“Hey, Chin Hae.” Finally, you hear Seonghwa’s voice from behind the door, raw from tears and soft with vulnerability. Relief washes over you and you bow your head to hide your tears. “I’m sorry for making you worry about me, Hongjoong-ah.”

“Shut up.” The captain suddenly snaps, his own voice thick. “Don’t ever apologise for worrying me. I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”

There’s a soft inhale from behind the door as you slide to sit next to it. “Did we at least get the cordyceps back, Chin Hae?”

You snort through your tears. “Yeah, but Mingi-hyung threw them on the floor earlier.”

A weak chuckle. “Well, we’ll just buy more then. I’ll have to scold that Mingi for wasting all that… They were expensive.”

“Are you okay, Seonghwa-hyung?” You sniff, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes… I am.” His voice is right there, at the door. “Chin Hae… can I… tell you about Ha Rin?”

Ha Rin.

Captain stiffens next to you, and you glance at him in confusion.

“Of course.” You tell him, trying to stop your nose from running, sitting up a little straighter even though he can’t see you. “I’d be honoured.”

“She was my younger sister.” His voice is soft, lost, far away, reminiscent of the time Jongho and Yunho had been telling you about their pasts. “I lived with her, my parents and my younger brother Hyunjung in Nassau. We ran an eatery by the harbour. Those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

The way he says it, with such yearning, makes jealousy clench around you. You have nothing to look back so fondly on.

“One day, I was at the harbor when one of my friends called me to the town square.”

Something sinks in your chest. You know where this is going.

“The town officials accused my parents of harboring pirates and sentenced my entire family to death at the gallows. And I did nothing but watch as my family were hung before my eyes.”

You recognise the emotion spilling from him, gnawing away at him from within. It’s an immense guilt, all consuming as a tidal wave.

Captain exhales next to you heavily, but he doesn’t look surprised at all by the news. Then you remember Seonghwa-hyung has been a member of the crew for six years now, of course Seonghwa would trust his captain with his past.

“Ha Rin was only nine. Hyunjung was eleven. I was supposed to take care of them, I was supposed to protect them.” He laughs but it sounds brittle and self deprecating, the weight of his failure settling on his shoulders. “And yet… I was the only one who survived.”

You don’t know what to say. Your fingers reach under the door, seeking his warmth on instinct.

There’s a pause.

Then his fingers intertwine with yours, gripping them tight. “I thought I could atone for my failure by taking care of the members on board the ship, but it seem that I’m failing in even that too. I still hear their voices, calling for me to join them every time I close my eyes. Maybe the gods are punishing me for my sins.”

You want to cry, scream, protest that he’s wrong, that he’s the first person who treated you with kindness even when you were tied to the mast, that the crew loved and needed him, but the captain beats you to it.

“You are not failing, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong growls, pressing his forehead against the door, voice raw with emotion. “Every single person on this ship needs you, you hear me? That includes me. Who else is going to cook us food if you’re not there? The whole ship will starve to death.”

It seems like such a small, petty thing to talk about, but Seonghwa manages a small laugh at that. “San was always interested in cooking.”

“Hell no.” The captain wears a fond, sad smile on his face. “We should just leave him to healing. Honestly, I don’t know how we trust him with our injuries. We need you, Seonghwa.”

You nod in agreement although he can’t see and Hongjoong continues to speak. “We’re sailing for Nassau, and we’re going to find the man who got your family hanged. Will you… will you do this with us?”

Seonghwa is silent for a minute. Just when you start to wonder if Hongjoong had asked too much of him, he replies softly.

“You know I’d follow you anywhere… Captain.”


	18. Words That Can't Be Taken Back

You and Wooyoung are sitting in the rigging, staring out to sea.

The Treasure has left Tortuga for a few days now, sailing in the open sea for the town of Nassau. From what Wooyoung has told you, Nassau, Seonghwa’s hometown, used to be a port thriving with pirate activity… until one day, the Royal Navy decided retake the town from the pirates. Pirate ships were burnt to the ground, the crews hung at the gallows and anyone associated with them brought in for questioning.

It is during that purge that Seonghwa’s parents were killed.

Seonghwa has finally left the confines of the galley, escorted to the sickbay to sleep and rest. Yunho is keeping a vigil beside Seonghwa, while you’ve taken over his cooking duties and Yunho’s lookout role. You may not be as well suited to the job as the two of them are, but it’s the most you can do for being to blame for Seonghwa’s condition.

If only you had known what to do.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

If only you hadn’t let the herbs be stolen.

You know it’s stupid, but the thoughts won’t stop echoing in your head.

If only you hadn’t gone out to celebrate your name.

You chew your lips.

If only you hadn’t come to this ship.

Guilt tears at you from the inside like the teeth of a piranha. The pain is all too acute, all to real.

“Hey.”

You’re jerked back from your thoughts by Wooyoung, who’s grinning at you. Somehow, the head gunner has pushed past the air of gloom surrounding the ship, managing to keep a broad smile on his face despite the weight on everyone’s shoulders. How he’s doing it, you don’t know, but part of you resents how easily he can seem to forget that Seonghwa is still in the sickbay, struggling to block out the voices of his dead family from his ears while all of you are absolutely powerless to help.

Even now, Seonghwa’s still refusing the sleeping incense, but Yeosang has given given him back the steak plushie, which he hugs to sleep every night. Jongho helps by singing his hyung to sleep. San mixes relaxing teas for him. Captain and Mingi studying the overlay of Nassau, trying to find the most inconspicuous way they can enter the town without garnering the attention of the authorities.

It’s only you and Wooyoung who can do nothing. And the guilt you feel is swallowing you whole.

Wooyoung suddenly leans forward, shackles clanging as he uses his fingers to turn your mouth up in smile. “I’m sure captain and Mingi will think of something. We’ll help Seonghwa-hyung and everything will be fine soon. Don’t be sad.”

Anger rushes forth.

“Don’t be sad?” You snap, smacking his hand away. Wooyoung looks visibly wounded, pain flashing across his face as his hand falls to his side, but you’re too caught up in your fury to notice. “Seonghwa-hyung is in this state and you have the gall to smile and act happy?”

Something in Wooyoung’s normally bright viridescent eyes darkens suddenly as he silently watches you rant.

“I hate how you’re still so happy go lucky! It’s like you don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone even though you’ve had family like Jongho-hyung and Yunho-hyung!” You continue raving, not seeing the way Wooyoung’s fingers clench so tight around the ropes his knuckles turn bloodless. “ I’m the only one who has no family, alright? I’m not like all of you, I don’t know what it’s like, but you’ve had family before, so shouldn’t you try to be more understanding?”

Silence falls between the two of you as you finish. Then you realise that you’ve just literally just thrown everything, your hurt, your pain, your guilt onto Wooyoung, who must be suffering too somewhere deep down inside. To your horror, his head hangs low so that you can’t see his expression, but from the way his shoulders are curled in on themselves, you must have wounded him deeply. Regret and guilt fills you.

You can’t seem to do anything right.

“Wooyoung-hyung, I’m sorry-”

“What else am I supposed to do, then?” Wooyoung breathes, turning to meet your eyes head on. You desperately want to look away, but his gaze is unbreakable as steel. There’s something utterly frigid about them, almost terrifying, like a dragon rearing its head. “Cry? Complain? Feel pity for myself? Curl up in a ball and hide until all the problems disappear?”

That’s exactly what you want to do right now under the weight of his of his intense stare, pinning you down.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean it-”

“You did.” Wooyoung cuts you off fiercely, his green eyes burning. “You meant every word of it and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I don’t intend on moping around because that’s not going to help anything. So get those stupid thoughts about it being your fault out of your head because none of them are true and smile because you need to believe things can get better.”

The resolve in his voice is unshakable, and you curl in on yourself to avoid Wooyoung’s stare, shame burning on your cheeks. All this while, you’ve only been thinking about yourself and your guilt, forgetting that you also affect the members of the crew and that moping around hasn’t helped at all.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly under your breath, but Wooyoung hears you anyway and his smile returns once more.

“I forgive you.” He beams at you gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your head rests against his shoulder, seeking comfort. “I understand.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you swallow down your emotions. Right. Smile. Be positive. Staying negative isn’t going to help anything.

Then Wooyoung frowns as he looks down onto the main deck. “Yeosang is coming over. I wonder what he needs.”

“Wooyoungie! Is Chin Hae up there with you?” The navigator stops in front of the main mast, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up. Wooyoung nods. “Yeah! Do you need him?”

“Can you tell him to come down? I have something to discuss with him.”

You frown, a little confused as Wooyoung glances at you in surprise. Then he leans forward to pinch your cheeks into a smile again, mirroring his own. “Go on. Don’t forget to smile.”

You manage a real smile for the first time in days.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-hyung.” You say as you climb over the side of the crow’s nest, making your way down and dropping lightly to the main deck. Yunho would be so proud if he saw you doing that. “What do you need, Yeosang-hyung?”

“San spoke to me earlier about your encounter with a fortune teller.” Yeosang explains to you as the two of you make your way across the main deck. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about. “Since Hongjoong-hyung is steering and Mingi is sleeping in the main hold, the captain’s quarters are empty and I thought that I could take this time to research on what the fortune teller said with you.”

Your heart leaps into your chest with ecstasy at what this could mean, but then you pause a little.

“Should we be doing this now? With everything that’s going on?”

Yeosang stops in the middle of pushing open the door to the captain’s cabin to look at you seriously. You’ve never realised how big and clear his eyes are, completely genuine and free of any trace of ill will. “It’s not like we can do anything now. What we can do is keep our spirits up and be strong for Seonghwa-hyung until we reach Nassau. And you’ve been looking down lately, so I thought I could try to cheer you up by clearing some of your questions.”

Warmth blooms in you at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Yeosang-hyung.”

The navigator smiles happily at you, almost radiant. “No problem. It’s my honour you’d trust me with such an important piece of information.” He opens the door and ushers you in.

You’ve never been in the captain’s cabin without the captain being present, so the room is unnaturally quiet and still. Yeosang, however, seems to know the room like it’s the back of his own hand, moving towards one of the shelves at the far end of the room while you hover awkwardly at the door.

“Please sit.” He indicates to the bed as he pulls out a scrap of parchment. You recognise it as the one Seonghwa had written your prophecy on the other time when you were discussing your visit to the fortune teller. Yeosang brings the paper over to you.

“So, what part haven’t you figured out?” He asks seriously, as he reaches in his pocket for a small wooden case, producing a pair of thin, gold rimmed eyeglasses and placing them on his nose delicately. You look over the words.

“The sea witch and the jar of clay.” You answer honestly.

Yeosang nods and moves over to his array of books. The walls are covered in them, from texts to maps to travel rutters to books of varying languages. There are even some tied up in stacks and placed neatly on the floor, all of them well kept and not a speck of dust on them.

He pulls out a few books, putting them in his arms as he mumbles to himself, eyes flitting among the shelves. Then he returns to you, setting the books on the table with a huff. “Let me look through these for a moment.”

You study him intently as he flips through the books faster than you can blink, fingers flying along the pages. The title on some of the books read ‘Legends of the Sea’, ‘Mythical Folk’ and such.

“The sea witch is a powerful entity who was once human with a bond to both the land and sea. She holds immense power, drawing upon the sea to cast spells. In return for a high price, she grants both magical and non magical folk alike what they desire.” Yeosang reads aloud, meticulously focusing on every detail. “Only people in great desperation can find the sea witch, as her lair lies hidden in a magical realm of the sea in which mortals cannot find. The entrance is rumoured to be off the coast of several uninhabited islands in the Atlantic, guarded by the sirens and fierce tidal straits rip through the waters, smashing any ship that dares pass through.”

“That’s… good to know.” You swallow uncomfortably. The only one who probably knows exactly who you are, and she’s probably out of reach. You’re unwilling to put the crew in danger because of your own problems.

“Those who have made a deal with the sea witch tend to have a token on which the deal was sealed.” Yeosang continues, glancing at the necklace hanging from your neck. “The price is often exorbitantly high, and is rarely something of material worth. It often is something of immense value to the person making the deal.”

Your memories.

You had given up your memories.

“In popular folk stories, she was responsible for taking the voice of a mermaid who’d fallen in love with a prince of the land in return for her legs. She also gives out pieces of ropes with three knots. Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind, but the third knot would unleash a hurricane.” Yeosang looks slightly interested. “Hongjoong-hyung has one of these, but he’s used the first knot already.”

“Really?” You gape. This sea witch can’t be mere legend now.

The navigator nods as he picks up another book. “We were being chased by the Royal Navy, but he used the wind to blow the ships away. That’s when hyung really started to believe in myths a little.”

He opens a book called ‘Symbolism Through Ages’. “Jars of clay, jars of clay… Jars of clay refer to humans. In many books such as the Holy Bible, humans were described to be jars of clay, having mortal bodies while holding precious souls of great value in them.”

A jewel resting in a jar of clay.

Yeosang’s eyebrows pinch together as he continues reading. “This is a interesting explanation, but not rather helpful as it’s quite metaphorical. You said that the fortune teller asked you who’d made you?”

“Yeah…” You shiver a little at the words. “Then she told me the sea witch was my mistress.”

Yeosang frowns thoughtfully, and you can literally hear the gears in his mind turning. He picks up another book, flipping through it absentmindedly as he glances through it. “Made… Clay… Vessel… Humans… Sea Witch… Bargain…”

Then he stops.

All at once, his eyes fly wide open, pupils dilating in realization, mouth going slack, face ashen. The expression on his face can only be described in pure, unadulterated shock, and he stops breathing for a second as if air has trapped itself in his lungs.

Your heart skips a beat in excitement.

“Did you find something?” You begin to ask excitedly, but Yeosang barely seems to hear you, staring in horror at the page, then at you.

Unease begins to crawl up your skin, but you force it to the side and ask. “Yeosang-hyung… what is it?”

That seems to snap Yeosang out of his daze and he desperately tries to smooth his face in a neutral expression, but he can’t quite hide the terror in his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s no big deal.”

The way his voice is trembling tells you it is anything but.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and barely restrained anger. “Yeosang-hyung, what are you hiding from me?”

“It’s nothing.” The navigator insists, slamming the book shut. You get a mere glimpse of the cover. Prome-, but then Yeosang’s hand slides over the title and you can’t see it any longer. “It’s nothing at all, so just let it go, please.”

Usually, you’d let anything he says go, but this is different.

“Then let me see it.” You hold your hand out to take the book, but Yeosang wrenches it from your grasp before you can even hold it, eyes flaring in panic.

“Don’t touch it!” Yeosang shouts furiously, clutching the book to his chest. Rage fills you, what may be an answer to your identity is right there, but Yeosang won’t give it to you. You storm over to him, ready to rip the book from his hands if you need to.

“What are you doing?” You snarl at him, almost animalistic as you reach to tear your only clue from him, but Yeosang shakes his head, arms folding around the book.

“You can’t see it!” He screams at you, tears streaming down his cheeks and you feel red hot anger thrumming in your veins, purring to life like an awakening monster. Icy calm washes over you, in complete contrast to the fury burning in your heart. How dare he cry as if he’s the one losing anything from this?

Yeosang must see the shift in your eyes as your expression settles into one of dark determination, because his knees start knocking uncontrollably and his eyes dilate with pure, undiluted and primal fear.

“Give the book to me, Yeosang.”

In this moment, Yeosang makes a decision.

His fingers fumble with the latch behind him. Before you can realise what he’s doing, he’s opened the pothole, turned away from you and tossed the book into the ocean.

You feel like your last hope has been crushed into shards and scattered to the wind. Broken fury and grief screams within you like two clashing hurricanes, tearing you apart and ripping through you. Your eyes land on Yeosang, who looks stunned by what he’s just done.

You finally manage to find words in your rage to convey to him what exactly you’re feeling now.

“I hate you.” You spit with every bit of loathing you can muster, and with that, you whirl around and dash out of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind you.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely slides to the ground on his knees, body curled into a ball, wishing he could beg for your forgiveness.

And his fist pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs pouring from his chest.


	19. Regrets Unaddressed

You watch from the mast as Nassau comes into sight.

The past few days have been spent gearing up for the plan. To disguise the ship, you and the crew have all slaved away on your journey to Seonghwa’s hometown, taking down the distinct blue square sails of the ship and rigging the masts with patchy, torn sails grey from age.

Over the last few days, you and Wooyoung have gotten much closer from working together in the sails all the time. The head gunner had taken one look at your face after your incident with Yeosang and offered to sit with you in the crow’s nest until you felt better. Although you had been boiling over with fury, ready to push him away, he simply told you that he wouldn’t ask any questions.

He wasn’t smiling when he said that, so you agreed.

Yeosang never came to apologize, the coward.

The two of you had merely sat quietly in the crow’s nest, watching the sun set and the stars come out at night. Half the time you had expected Wooyoung’s mouth to open his mouth with some dumb question, but he had just remained silent the entire time, not even looking at you in the least. The two of you simply watched sky and sea become one, both melding into a single canvas of inky black, the stars both above and reflected beneath you. And you had thought long and hard about what you’d said to Yeosang.

I hate you.

You’d used the worst word you could have possibly have. You weren’t just angry with him. You didn’t just immensely dislike him. You had completely lost your damn mind.

Yeosang, one of the quietest and purest people to ever walk the earth and sail the sea. The silent, kind and all knowing navigator who you spotted talking to the birds in the harbor of Tortuga because he was so fascinated by them. The man who’d only ever shown you kindness and given you comfort. The one who never hesitated to help you no matter what your requests were and answered your questions about anything and everything. You’d told him that you hated him.

“I think I screwed something up.” You’d told Wooyoung, head resting against his shoulder. One thing you’d learned about Wooyoung was that he loved physical contact, craved it even, as long as you didn’t surprise him with it. His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you close to stay warm in the crisp night air.

“You just noticed?” The tone of his comment was anything but snark, and he didn’t say a word more. You’d fallen asleep against his shoulder, as if hoping his warmth could fend off the guilt and frozen anger in you.

The next morning when you had woken up, he was still there in the same position, one arm around you, watching the sunrise.

For the duration of the trip to Nassau, you hadn’t spoken to Yeosang once. Even though the two of you had bumped into each other rather frequently, Yeosang had just lowered his head and brushed past you like you weren’t there, and you had done the same.

You were still too angry to talk rationally to him.

I hate you.

You were still too confused to ask him why he would do this to you.

I hate you.

You were still too ashamed to face him for what you had said.

In an attempt to escape him, you’d simply juggled between staying in the rigging or cooking in the kitchens. San had asked you repeatedly about why your face had been so down during your lessons together, but you honestly didn’t know how to answer him.

So you simply hadn’t.

“Chin Hae?”

You turn absentmindedly on the yardarm to face Wooyoung as he makes his way to you, swinging between ropes as he settles next to your side. The two of you have finished your task in taking down the orange and black ATEEZ flag and carefully ripping holes in the sails, so you have nothing to do for now.

“Will everything really be okay?” You ask him quietly. You don’t like where this plan is going at all.

Wooyoung merely shrugs with a matter-of-fact smile as he glances at the dark shape that is Nassau begins to grow in size. “I trust captain. And even if it doesn’t turn out okay, I stick with the crew. They’ll never abandon us.”

You nod. Even if you’re not really very positive about where this plan is going, you’ll stay with the ship and its crew.

The plan, in fact, is to infiltrate Nassau as a merchant ship running from pirates. The cannons have been stowed in a special hidden space right beneath the main deck, and the weapons kept away in a compartment in the main hold. 

But there’s a sinking feeling in your chest.

“Chin Hae! Wooyoung-ah!” Mingi calls from the main deck and you look down to see the quartermaster standing there. He looks equally as tense as you are, mouth pressed into a line. “Captain wants to see you to go over the plan one last time.”

You nod. Both you and Wooyoung leap from the rigging, sliding down easily with leather gloves on your hands and landing as lightly as a cat. If Yunho had the opportunity to see you instead of practicing his role in the plan, he’d definitely be proud of you.

The two of you move to the cabin, silently trailing the quartermaster quietly. There’s a tense silence over the deck as the crew merely watch the town of Nassau come closer and closer in sight. Everybody knows what the consequences are if the authorities see through your ploy.

The Treasure will be burnt to ashes.

The crew will be hung.

And yet none of them are backing down.

Your footsteps barely make sound on the wooden floorboards as you step into the captain’s cabin after Wooyoung. The door swings shut behind you and the two of you greet Yunho quietly, who’s seated on the bed silently rehearsing his lines.

Hongjoong turns from coaching Yunho and turns to the two of you. The first thing you notice is the dark circles beneath your captain’s eyes, as if he hasn’t slept in days, which is probably true. He’s carrying all your lives on his shoulders with this plan, and should it go wrong every single one of you will be strung up like dried fish in the marketplace.

You swallow uncomfortably at the thought and stand a little straighter in front of the captain’s desk.

The plan is scribbled down everywhere, on sheets of paper littered around the desk. Some you recognise as your captain’s calligraphy, some as Mingi’s scribbles, and the rest as Yeosang’s neat notes.

You force your eyes away from them.

“When we get to Nassau, it’ll be around evening.” Hongjoong jerks a thumb at Yunho, who’s rereading his script with the most haunted, terrified look you’ve seen. It’d make you worry, but you’ve already seen the careful construction that goes on behind this facade and know it’s nothing more than an act. “There’ll be an official coming to check the ship, so don’t be shocked when it happens.”

As Hongjoong and Mingi have discussed, the only literate people on this ship are Hongjoong, Mingi, Seonghwa, San, Yunho, Yeosang and you. Hongjoong is much too striking with his eye patch, so he can’t be the one the ship presents as captain when the ship enters the port of Nassau. Mingi’s out because of his deep blue hair.

San is needed on board as a healer, Seonghwa’s face is probably still on an arrest warrant in Nassau, and Yeosang simply doesn’t have a presence commanding enough to be a captain. You, too, have no idea how port authorities work, so the only one left to the role is Yunho.

It is strange to see your captain not in his usual red jacket, his signature look has been swapped out for a more unassuming white shirt and trousers. But no matter what he dresses in, he still exudes authority with every action and you hang on to every word he says.

“Yeosang and Seonghwa have done a map of where the official lives. It’s a small estate surrounded by a few houses in which the townspeople live. Do you remember his name?”

“Lucio Bartholomew.” Wooyoung echoes from memory. Hongjoong nods confirmation.

“You’ll need to infiltrate the estate from the back wall under the cover of night. Find out how many guards there are, where his office is and come right back.”

The head gunner inclines his head in understanding.

Then the captain turns to you, his eyes softening.

“Are you prepared?”

You nod. There’s a fear pulling at you from the inside, and you’re terrified as well.

Because you’re going on this mission too.

That’s why you’ve been spending so much time on the masts and rigging, learning how to move along ropes, to scale them as quickly and silently as possible. As the only other literate person on board who doesn’t have any outstanding physical traits for the town watch to recognize you by, your role in this mission is to read the plaques and clues around you to find Lucio Bartholomew’s room.

You’re also the only one light enough for Wooyoung to work with when using the grappling hook, thus you have been selected by the captain for this infiltration mission.

These five whole days in the rigging, you’ve memorized Wooyoung’s odd little cues and mannerisms, learning how to communicate with him silently without sound, familiarizing yourself with the way he moves. The two of you will need to move in absolute tandem, be of the same mind, before you can succeed on this mission.

The pressure is immense.

“This reminds me of those ninja I heard about before from Japan.” Wooyoung tries to smile, but it comes out more forced than reassuring. Hongjoong stands and inclines his head to the two of you.

“Thank you for doing this, Wooyoung, Chin Hae.” He says so seriously that you feel a lump growing in your throat. Everyone knows how risky this mission is, how dire the consequences will be if you fail. You won’t only be captured, but also jeopardize Seonghwa’s chances of ever getting to confront the official who’d killed his family.

“We’ll be fine.” You manage to lie through your teeth, trying to sound a lot more confident than you feel. Hongjoong’s eye shifts over to the head gunner next to you.

“Take care of Chin Hae, Wooyoung.”

Your captain’s care warms you for a short moment despite your mounting terror at what may be your a terrible fate. Wooyoung meets his captain’s gaze evenly.

“I will, Hongjoong-hyung.” No syllable is empty or void of intent. His words are a promise, a vow and an oath. “I’ll make sure he comes back alive.”

The captain holds the two of you by the shoulders, seemingly overwhelmed with emotion for a moment. “I wish you all the luck the world can offer. If my blessing could be of any use, I hope it will be on the two of you as well.”

The three of you fall silent for a moment, suddenly too aware of the fact that this may be the last time are seeing each other. Then Wooyoung looks up, sniffing the air once. You know what that means.

You’ve reached port.

Not a second later, the bell of the ship rings. You hear Mingi’s voice from the main deck, and Yunho stiffens uncomfortably, looking like a lamb that has just been sent to the slaughterhouse.

“We’ve arrived at Nassau!”

“Good luck, Yunho-hyung.” You say as brightly as you can, which isn’t much. Yunho smiles nervously, throwing the script into a drawer built into the captain’s desk as he fidgets uncomfortably, adjusting the collar of his silk shirt befitting the captain of a merchant ship.

“I’ll try my best.” With that, the four of you step out onto the main deck.

Wooyoung’s hand slips into yours as the two of you make your way to the bow. “Are you nervous?” He whispers out of the side of his mouth. You feel the cold sweat of his palm, the way his fingers seem to be locked in place, and you know that he is anything but calm on the inside. You decide to be honest.

“So much I want to dive straight into the sea and swim back to Tortuga.” You murmur back. Now that is no lie.

The Treasure has begun to enter the port, pulling up against a dock. Men working at the harbor catch the mooring lines your crew tosses over the side, pulling you against the wharf. Mingi gives the order for the anchor to be dropped.

The gangplank is lowered and the harbor official steps aboard, followed by a squadron of twenty soldiers, all armed with bayonets and flintlock rifles. His skin is pale, almost white as porcelain, and his hair is a shade of striking platinum blonde, his uniform neat and tidy. The way his fingers dance on the hilt of his cutlass tells you he’s a man who’s seen many a battle, and that the gold patches at his shoulders are not merely for decoration. A bead of cold sweat trickles down your temple as you take your place between Jongho and Wooyoung.

Jongho gives you a reassuring smile, but you can see that his eyes are dark with anxiety.

“Who’s the captain of this ship?” The official demands coolly, eyes scanning the number of seamen before him. Yunho steps forward, Mingi and Yeosang flanking him.

“I am. My name is Donghae.” He bows to the official, one hand over his heart in a sign of respect and honour. “I’m the captain of the Heron, this is my quartermaster Jiho and my bosun Sungjin.”

“I didn’t ask for their names. My name is Yoongi, head of port inspection and lieutenant of the Royal Navy.” The official replies curtly. His eyes remind you of a hawk’s, scanning the deck for anything out of place like a bird of prey. This man will be a difficult one to fool. “What is your business at Port Nassau?”

“My crew and I were threatened by pirates.” Yunho answers, inclining his head as if ashamed. “I could only let them take what cargo I had on board.”

The official raises a sharp, well defined eyebrow as he takes in the sight of the crew. “A rather merciful pirate ship if it let you go unscathed.”

“We did not put up any fight, good sir.” Yunho explains, sounding tired and defeated, as if he’s really spent the day before surrendering to a pirate ship. “They threatened us with cannonfire, but we hoisted the white flag before they could fire on us.”

“Is that so?” The lieutenant’s eyes rake every one of the crew. When his ice cold eyes meet yours, you feel a shiver travelling down your spine. “They didn’t fire on you?”

“No, sir.” Yunho confirms, nodding his head. The official’s eyes darken minutely.

“Then what is your purpose here?”

“To restock on provisions and freshwater, as well as mend the sails on board the ship.” Yunho says as honestly as he can. It’s technically not a lie, but it’s definitely not the whole truth either.

The lieutenant’s face remains unreadable as he turns away to face his men.

“Jungkook!” A young officer salutes and moves over to his lieutenant.

“Sir?”

“Register the Heron in dock seven. The rest of you, move back to your stations.”

You very nearly sag in relief, but you manage to keep yourself upright from sheer will alone.

“Yes sir!” The soldiers chorus, turning back and marching down the gangplank, boots thundering on the gangplank.

Yoongi gives Yunho a piercing stare. “Move your ship to dock seven. There is to be no one leaving the ship from between the evening bell and the morning bell for the safety of this town and its citizens. I hope you have a pleasant stay.”

He turns to leave, then pauses.

You see the lieutenant glance back at you for a moment, raising his nose to sniff the air. Then he whirls around and leaves.

Once the deck clears of the officials, you slump against Jongho, who pats you on the back comfortingly. You hadn’t even realised how terrified you had been until the ordeal was over, leaving you feeling boneless and weak.

The entire crew breathes a sigh of relief.

Yunho manages to shoot his captain a feeble grin, but he looks like he’s just been run over by a horse and then the cart the horse was drawing. “Phase one down.”

That night, you’re changing into a dark attire in your room with San’s eyes respectfully averted. You’re numb, what you’re about to do doesn’t feel quite real to you except for the terror slowly creeping up your legs. You fasten the clasp at the neck, before throwing a motley brown cloak around you to hide the bulge of the grappling rope tied at your waist.

“I’m done.” You breathe to San, and your master turns to you, passing you the silver hairpin in his hand. You tuck it in your belt, before looking at the healer. His face is completely unreadable, and for once, you find it difficult to interpret the look in his eyes.

Remember to smile.

You try to pull your lips upwards, desperate to ease the worry from his shoulders. “How do I look, master?”

Suddenly, San lunges forward, throwing his arms around you in a massive, rib crushing hug that seems impossible for a man so lithe. You can’t see his face because it’s buried in your shoulder, but you can feel the way his arms are trembling even as he tries to steady himself.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me safe and in one piece, alright?” His voice is just a little hoarse, cracking from raw emotion and vulnerability. You’ve never taken the time to fully appreciate how close you’ve gotten to San, what the green haired healer means to you. Your benefactor, your partner in crime, your master, your family. He is almost like flesh and blood to you at this point, your relationship as a master and apprentice nearly unbreakable.

But you don’t have the time to tell him what he has come to mean to you, so instead you return the hug as tightly as possible.

“I can’t promise that.” You’ve never lied to your master before, and you don’t intend to start making it a habit now. “But I will do my best to come back to you alive.”

The two of you stay like that for a moment, before someone knocks on the door gently. “Hey.” Jongho’s head peeks in through the doorway and the two of you slowly untangle from the hug. “It’s time to go.”

You give him the best smile you can muster and move over to the maknae, whose head is downcast. But something seems to weighing heavily on his shoulders, and you frown.

“What is it, Jongho-hyung?”

“If only-” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, trying again. “If only I could read… I could have gone in your place. I don’t… I don’t want you to be in danger.”

You feel a gentle warmth stirring in you in spite of your fear.

“Thank you, Jongho-hyung.” You press him into a quick hug. The young battlemaster stiffens slightly upon the contact, but then squeezes you back tightly before releasing you. “But I’ll be fine.”

He clearly doesn’t believe you, but nods anyway. “Stay safe.”

It’s with their well wishes that you make your way up the main deck.

Wooyoung’s waiting for you at the stern of the ship with the Captain, Mingi and Yeosang. He’s dressed similarly to you, all in black with a brown cloak thrown over his shoulders. Mingi gives you a black scarf to tie around your neck.

“Don’t get recognized.” He warns you, but you see the concern etched in his face. You take the strip of black cloth gratefully. Then you see Yeosang at the side, looking a little hesitant, still afraid to speak to you. Your heart squeezes painfully with anguish.

“Chin Hae-” He begins to say, but you turn to Wooyoung before he can finish his sentence. The navigator falls silent behind you.

You force yourself to concentrate at the task at hand. Wooyoung’s already thrown a rope over the starboard, the side of the ship facing away from the port and the prying eyes of the watch. You sling your leg over the side and look down into the inky dark sea, and for some reason, you don’t feel scared anymore.

This is just like the rigging lines. Just like you’re on the main mast again, playing around with Wooyoung and Yunho.

Maybe the adrenaline is finally kicking in. Or you’re just too scared to feel it anymore.

“We’ll be going now.” You tell them seriously. Hongjoong’s eye fixes on yours.

“All the best, the two of you.” Then he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “Come back to me alive. That’s an order.”

A small, fond smile twitches on your lips and the two of you echo together. “Yes, captain.”

Then the two of you slide down the rope into the sea, disappearing into the darkness of the night.


	20. The Mission

The two of you swim for shore.

Warm water laps against your skin as you paddle forward in almost complete silence, the only thing that lets you know Wooyoung is still behind you is the soft, occasional splash behind you. The night is cold, but the water is relatively matching your body temperature, so at least there’s been a good start to the mission so far.

You can only pray to the gods that it stays that way.

Finally, you see your destination, a small, deserted beach at the shoreline and swim hard for it. The tide seems to be favoring you today, pushing you gently to shore and in the end, you and Wooyoung collapse next to each other in the gritty sand, panting hard from the exertion. The sea washes over your feet one last time, like an encouraging pat on the back, before it sweeps back into the ocean.

“This mission is killing me already.” Wooyoung heaves for breath, shivering against the cold wind. You open your oilskin bag and offer him a towel, but he waves it off. “You first.”

His tone tells you he won’t take no for an answer, so you sigh and rub the coarse sackcloth down your arms and legs, toweling your hair as dry as possible. Then you pass the cloth the Wooyoung who starts doing the same, while you wring out the cloak around your shoulders.

“We need to cut through the grove of trees and make for the estate.” Wooyoung tosses the cloth to the side when he’s done with it. You struggle to make out his face in the darkness, the only light coming from the pubs and taverns near the bay front area still open at this time of the night, but you suppose the darkness will be good in helping the two of you go unseen.

“Let’s go.”

He takes your hand in his and the two of you tread as silently as you can through the small grove of trees separating the beach from the town. Even though the grove is dark and almost completely uninhabited, every soft crunch of leaves beneath your feet makes you jump, and you have to stop yourself from jumping out of your skin at every hoot of a night owl.

Then in front of you, Wooyoung lets out a muffled curse and stops suddenly. Fear sinks in your chest.

“What happened?” You whisper to him, trying to keep fright out of the edge of your voice.

The head gunner merely rubs his head and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “I was too busy looking at where I was putting my feet and hit my head on a tree branch. It’s broken.”

“That’s terrible.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, hand falling to the side. “Thanks for the concern, but my head will be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

You pause for a moment.

“I thought you were talking about the branch.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s wearing a pout, but you give him a weak grin in response. The two of you manage to make it to the edge of the grove without a hitch except for Wooyoung’s little hiccup. You scan the town.

There aren’t many guards, as far as you can see.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Both of you stride out in the open, trying to be as natural as possible, as if you aren’t trying to break into the estate of the most important official of this town. To blend in with the crowd, Wooyoung has even rubbed henna into his hair to disguise its striking purple shade, and you still do double takes sometimes when you look at him. But other than that, the two of you look perfectly normal, the usual shady people you’d find at this hour of the night.

You’ve memorized the map in your head so you know where you’re going, but there’s always the irrational fear that you may have taken a wrong turn, or that they’ve changed the structure of the town.

Wooyoung is still rubbing at his head with a rueful smile as the two of you walk through the empty streets with the odd drunk loitering here and there. “Maybe I should have looked at where I was going.”

You glance at him in concern as you fall into step with him, your footsteps matching.

“Does it hurt?” There’s a red weal where the branch had hit him. Wooyoung snorts as if the answer is obvious.

“Of course it does, it’s broken.”

You actually stop to stare at him in horror, your heart sinking as you check his forehead over for injuries. “What?” Then you see Wooyoung giggling with a hand over his mouth and you start to wonder exactly how hard he hit his head.

“Sorry. I thought you were talking about the tree branch.” He throws your sentence right back you and you give him a flat stare. Then you flick him in the forehead right on the bruise and he yelps in pain, but still can’t stop the giggles falling from his mouth.

The two of you walk past a row of shop houses, and you glance in interest at their wares, peering through the glass windows. Many are selling beautiful ornaments, jewelry, and even clockwork automatons. These are things you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen before.

Then the two of you walk past a bookshop and you read the titles through the glass window.

“Hamlet, Othello, the Tempest…” You murmur aloud to yourself and Wooyoung glances curiously at you. “Leviathan, Religio Medici… The Mermaid-”

The gunner taps you on the shoulder, snapping you out of your little reading session.

“We’re here.” He points at the small, dark alleyway that will lead you to the back wing of the estate. You glance around to make sure no one is following you.

As if luck is in your favour tonight, the streets are empty.

Both of you duck into the alley, blending into the shadows the best you can as you pull the black scarf over your nose to hide your face. You glance before you, the first floor of the official’s building has no windows, most likely to deter intruders like you. The lowest open window is about at twice your height and opposite it, across the alleyway, are a few open windows, where you assume some of the townspeople reside.

Wooyoung presses his right ear against the stone wall, indicating for you to keep your volume down. You watch with bated breath, afraid to make a sound as you quietly undo the grappling rope around your waist. After a long moment, the gunner turns to you and shakes his head.

No guards.

You breathe a sigh of relief and pass the rope to Wooyoung, who ties the steel grappling hook to the end. He spins the weight at the end, before sending it up into one of the windows on the second floor. When he pulls, the rope goes taut.

The two of you listen for the signs of any rousing, that you might have woken someone, but all is silent.

Wooyoung scales the rope first, his years as a rigging monkey clear in the way he swarms up the grappling rope like a spider, and disappears over the ledge into the building. You pray for his safety as your grip around the rope tightens.

Then you feel two jerks on the rope.

It’s safe.

You exhale nervously, wrapping your hands around the rope and pulling yourself upwards. Initially, when you’d first started learning how to move around the rigging, your arms had been weak from lack of such strenuous exercise. Yunho had just cheerfully encouraged you with his usual ‘practice, practice, practice’, and now, it’s paying off for you.

You’re nowhere near as agile as Wooyoung, but you manage to heave yourself into the room, sweat dripping from your forehead. Wooyoung helps you into the room, but then holds a finger to his lips immediately, eyes urgent.

You glance over his shoulder and your heart sinks.

You’ve intruded into the bedroom of a wealthy official, his body tucked up under frilly sheets and silk covers. The bed is a lavish, gold painted affair with lace curtains, and you’re almost blinded by the gaudiness of it all. You nod at Wooyoung, indicating that you’ve gotten the message, and he points to a stack of papers on the desk.

You move over to it as quietly as you can while Wooyoung coils the rope for later use, flipping through the documents marked with a red wax seal to see which name occurs the most.

Ludovico Robertt. A tax collector.

You shake your head and Wooyoung’s shoulders sag in disappointment, but he gestures for you to put the papers down and follow him. The two of you move through the luxurious bedchambers of this tax collector, and to your horror, you see Wooyoung’s shoulder brush against a porcelain teacup on a shelf. It tilts over the edge of the shelf, wobbling there for a moment, seemingly frozen in time, before it starts to falls to the ground.

Your eyes fly wide and you dive to catch it before it can shatter against the floorboards.

Wooyoung whirls around in surprise as you grab for the piece of tableware frantically. It slips from your fingers, and Wooyoung scrambles to snatch the cup out of the air.

He succeeds.

The two of you look at each other and simultaneously heave a silent sigh of relief. The gunner places it back on the shelf very carefully and the two of you continue making your way through the room, every chair, every ornament, and every soft squeak of the wooden floorboards like a warning call of your arrival.

Seriously, you might have some permanent heart issues when this mission is over.

Both of you creep to the door, silent as mice. Wooyoung, holds up a hand, indicating for you to stop, before he open the door a crack to check for any guards. Then he turns back to you, lips at your ear.

“There are two guards in the inner courtyard, but they’re not really looking up. From this angle, it’ll be difficult to see us anyway.” He whispers and you nod in understanding. “I’m sure there are plenty of other guards patrolling the second floor, but we can hide in the rooms if need be. If all the rooms are like this one, it has no lock.”

Then he slips out of the room as silently as a wraith, and you follow behind him.

The door opens out into a corridor, which gives you a view of the inner courtyard. You peer down to see the two guards that Wooyoung was talking about, their faces eerily lit from the light of the flickering torches. You gulp at the sight and tiptoe after Wooyoung, following him down the corridor to the next room.

To your relief, the doors have brass plaques on them with the names of the person staying inside, probably to help the servants working in the estate. You’re not a servant, but you’re so grateful to whoever came up with this idea you want to kiss their feet.

Your eyes scan the names while Wooyoung keeps a lookout for any guards.

John Dely. Christopher Smith. Warin Page. Valentine Dauntestay.

You grit your teeth in frustration. Every second you stay, the higher your chances are of being discovered. Wooyoung glances at you, and you shake your head.

He’s not here.

Wooyoung’s eyes darken.

Goddamnit.

He takes your hand in his once more and the two of you crouch low, moving quickly and quietly to the next corridor. To your immense relief and joy, the name on the first plaque you see is the right one.

Lucio Bartholomew.

You turn to grin at Wooyoung, but then remember he can’t see your face beneath the mask. But by now, the two of you are so in tune with each other he already seems aware of the success before you can tell him.

His eyes crinkle into tiny crescents above his mask.

Good job, Chin Hae!

You give a little bow, before moving to open the door. The two of you slip in, ghosts in the night and Wooyoung shuts the door silently behind you.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the gloom, and you’re surprised by what you see.

The room is neat and sparsely decorated, nothing like the first bedchamber you saw. The shelves are filled with books, the floor bare and well swept, and behind the man’s desk is a dark shape lying on a simple wooden bed, snoozing peacefully.

This man is the cause of all of Seonghwa’s problems.

Anger begins to flare up in you, but you push it down. It is not your fury this man will have to deal with, but Seonghwa’s. Wooyoung pulls a piece of charcoal from his oilskin bag and begins to sketch the location of the room on paper.

While Wooyoung is doing that, you glance around to occupy yourself. This man must be an avid reader, filled with much knowledge and information. He almost reminds you of Yeosang, in that manner.

Then you see it.

A sole book, lying on the table. Its cover is a thin piece of wood, the title hand carved into the surface, but you care not for the make of the book. Instead your eyes are fixed on the letters engraved into the wood.

The Legend of Prometheus.

A quiet gasp leaves your mouth as your mind flashes back to the book Yeosang was holding. You don’t notice Wooyoung straighten up in confusion as he turns to look at you, you simply walk over to the book, as if in a trance, picking it up.

A Titan of Greek mythology, Prometheus is credited in most legends for giving men the gift of fire, having stolen it from the forge of the Greek God Hephaestus.

“What is it?” Wooyoung taps you on the shoulder, but you’re too absorbed in the book to answer him. “We need to go.”

“Give me a moment.” You hiss in reply, flipping to the next page. “I need to read this first.”

Wooyoung looks like he wants to argue, but you pay no heed to him.

After the battle between the Olympian Gods and the Titans, Prometheus was given the task of creating man by the ruling Olympian, Zeus, God of the Skies. Prometheus then went to a riverside, and to make man he sculpted, like a potter, a body from clay.

Something goes silent inside of you.

A body of clay.

Wooyoung must sense that there’s something wrong because he glances at you in worry, but you barely notice him.

A body of clay. The word echoes in your mind endlessly, a chant, a prayer. You feel numb, weak and utterly lost.

The book slips from your hands and lands on the ground with a heavy thud.

The noise shocks you out of your stupor, Wooyoung’s eyes flying open in horror. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, neither daring to move a muscle.

There’s a pause.

Then you hear shifting coming from the side and your heart sinks in your chest as your eyes glance at the dark shape sitting up on the bed. He rubs his eyes blearily as his eyes adjust to his surroundings.

The two of you stare at him, and he stares back at the two of you.

There’s a moment of incomprehension, as his brain tries to figure out why there are two humanoid dark shapes in his room. Then it sinks in and you see his mouth opening, your heart sinking in your chest in terror.

“Guards!”


	21. Got You

“Run!” Wooyoung grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the room, but once you’re out of the door you see a squadron of armed guards making their way towards the commotion. They see the two of you from opposite the building.

“Get them!” The man you presume to be the leader shouts and you wince.

Wooyoung curses under his breath and yanks you back down the corridor, both of your feet thundering on the floorboards. Your heart is hammering in your chest like you’re about to die, which you do think you might, actually. Adrenaline speeds through your veins, setting your limbs on fire, and the two of you round the corner only to meet the two guards from the courtyard with swords drawn.

You and Wooyoung manage to unsheathe your cutlasses just in time to block the overhead swings and your joined hands tear apart.

Dodging the point of the guard’s sword, you kick him in the center of the chest, sending him sprawling back against the balustrade. He manages to knock your cutlass from your hands, sending it tumbling over the railing onto the ground below, but you don’t have the time to mourn its loss. You take the opportunity to side stamp his knee, immobilizing him with a broken leg and turn back to look at Wooyoung.

To your horror, he’s struggling with his guard, a massively built man with bulging muscles. The guard has Wooyoung pinned against the wall, and all the gunner can do is to keep the point of the sword from piercing his neck, arms trembling from the strain.

You don’t have time to think.

Dashing forward, you reach for your belt and draw the next most lethal thing you have, before jumping and clinging onto the man’s back with your arms around his neck. He roars in fury and tries to throw you off, but before he can, you raise the silver hairpin and jab it into the back of his neck.

The man screams in agony, crumpling to his knees, and Wooyoung takes a second to be impressed.

“Damn, that was not what I had in mind when I gave it to you.”

You give him an incredulous look as you shove the hairpin back in your belt. The other group of guards are getting closer and closer. Luckily for you, the hallway is rather narrow so it’s difficult for the guards to make their way through, but this isn’t going to hold them off for long. “This isn’t the time for that! Let’s go!”

He takes you by the hand again and the two of you continue your mad dash for safety. Then you hear the captain shout a command that freezes the blood in your veins.

“Fire!”

Wooyoung throws you to the side, diving for cover, but you’re not lucky enough. Shot slams into the pillar you and Wooyoung are crouched behind, but a musket ball smashes into your ankle.

In that single moment, you’re in hell. Pain shoots across your leg like raw fire licking at your skin, and for a second, you just wonder how on earth anything can hurt this bad. A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Chin Hae!” Wooyoung cries in horror, rushing over to help you, but the moment he sees your foot, his face goes ashen in worry. “Oh, mother of gods…”

You immediately stop yourself from looking at it lest you throw up at the sight.

Even through the blinding agony, you understand what needs to happen. Your leg is absolutely wrecked, and there is no way you’ll be able to run to the harbour, even if you did make it down the grappling rope somehow. If you remain with Wooyoung, you’ll only be a burden to him.

And this mess is all your fault.

You glare at him through the pain. “Go, idiot! Run!”

Wooyoung ignores you, slinging your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you upright, forcing himself to ignore your low cry of anguish. “Yeah, fat chance. If I get back to the ship without you, captain will shoot me himself anyway, so I might as well die here with you. At least the navy will kill me faster.”

You groan, both in pain and at his stupid sense of humor despite your near death experience. “This isn’t the time for your dumb jokes!”

He has the gall to look offended. “My jokes are greatly beloved by all people-”

“Approach cautiously, they might be armed!” You hear the captain call to his men, and in this second Wooyoung acts, tossing a soft cased smoke bomb to the ground.

The explosive detonates with a bang, sending the soldiers into a panicked frenzy. Wooyoung takes this opportunity to grab you and run, slamming the door to Mr Ludovico Robertt’s room shut and barring it with the heavy oak desk.

The man continues snoring despite the commotion.

“How are you going to get me down?” You demand furiously, completely unable to understand why Wooyoung just won’t leave you be. “Just go and tell Captain to get out of here!”

“Not happening.” Wooyoung unwinds the rope around his waist, doing tight knots around your shoulders and under your arms. Your eyes widen as you realise what he intends to do and terror claws at your throat, adrenaline swirling in your blood.

“Are you crazy? I’d rather get shot to death than fall to it!”

“You’ll be fine!” Wooyoung reassures you as he secures the rope to the official’s four poster bed. You hear the guards at the door, pounding on it when they realise that it can’t be opened. “Mr Robertt! Mr Robertt! Are you inside?”

The man sleeps like the dead.

Wooyoung then grabs you bridal style, arms hooking you beneath the knees as he grins breathlessly at you. “You know, you should really lose some weight, Chin Hae.” You baulk at his words, attempting to punch him in the shoulder. Suddenly, you realise the two of you are way too lighthearted, as if you aren’t really in trouble.

Yup, you’re probably completely drunk on fear.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.” You grumble, then Wooyoung holds you over the window ledge. Your arms instinctively tighten around his neck as you look at the very painful, one way drop to the ground.

“Mr Robertt! We’re coming in!” You hear the captain outside shouting as they get ready to smash the door down. Your heart leaps into your chest.

The gunner smiles broadly at you, eyes twinkling, but when he speaks, his words are honest.

“Do you trust me?”

You’re almost comforted by the genuine determination in his eyes, and you remember his vow to protect you and keep you safe. This man, your friend, crewmate and partner in crime, won’t ever leave you behind. You somehow laugh even with a mutilated leg, hanging over certain death, and with less than zero prospects of survival.

“Not at all.”

Wooyoung laughs at your answer, grin turning slightly maniacal. “Good, because I don’t trust myself in the least either.”

With that, he drops you out of the window.

You manage to hold in your scream, but Wooyoung is careful to lower you slowly to the ground and you sink onto the stone cobbles without much issue, aside from the amount of blood you can feel trickling from the wound.

The gunner drops down onto the ground next to you lightly, and without another word, you hobble down the alley with your arm slung over his shoulder. But to the mounting fear growing in you, you hear the same captain shouting from behind you.

“Fan out and search! One of them is wounded, they can’t have gotten far.”

Wooyoung makes a choice.

Turning to one of the doors, he rams it open with his shoulder and pulls you inside, much to your surprise, before slamming the door shut behind you. Your mouth falls open in shock.

“I can’t believe you just broke into someone’s house.”

He gives you a flat look as he helps you over to a small chair in the room. The two of you seem to have forced your way into a small house, and from the way that there is two of everything in the small kitchen you are in, you assume that you are in a married couple’s house.

“You just broke into an official’s estate.”

You ignore his logic and sag against the wall in relief, your aching body and battered bones aching. But the real problem is your ankle. You can feel the adrenaline begin to fade away, leaving agonizing pain steadily growing in your left foot, and for a moment, you nearly keel over from the sensation of it. You can feel that the bone of your ankle was completely smashed upon the musket ball’s impact, but you don’t know the extent of the injury yet.

“How bad is it?” You ask Wooyoung. The gunner swallows as he takes in the wound.

“Not the worse I’ve seen?” He tries to supply unhelpfully.

You groan. Asking Wooyoung about your injury isn’t going to help at all, so you swallow the bile in your throat and glance at your foot.

And oh boy is it in terrible shape.

It isn’t as bad as it could have been. The musket ball must have merely glanced of your ankle, the force of it causing the bone of your ankle to smash into pieces, but at least the lead shot hasn’t punched through your leg, leaving a gaping hole there like in the stories San used to tell you.

What the ball has done, however, is to carve a bleeding gash across your ankle and foot, and if you don’t stop the bleeding and treat it now, it’ll definitely get infected like the first musket wound you had gotten when you’d been escaping from Raguza. You have no wish to repeat the process.

“Can you get me some water, some cloth and a piece of leather?”

Wooyoung seems confused by your last odd request, but then the two of you are interrupted by a little choking noise from the side.

You turn to see a young woman standing there, dressed in a white nightgown. She’s standing in the doorway that most likely leads from the kitchen to the rest of the house with a lamp in hand, and she looks terrified.

You and Wooyoung exchange glances, before you raise your hand in an attempt at a friendly wave.

Her eyes dilate in fear and you realise how the two of you must look. Two shady men dressed completely in black, with masks over their faces, casually sitting at her kitchen table. You don’t begrudge her when she finally lets out a scream and bolts in fear, calling for her husband.

“Well, shit.” Wooyoung sighs, shaking his head as he rises to his feet. “I wonder if I can charm her into letting us hiding here-”

“You can’t seduce a married woman!” You hiss under your breath, but then the woman returns, this time with a tall, lean man at the side, with an axe. There’s a soft click of Wooyoung’s musket being primed at your side, but you lay a hand over his, shaking your head urgently. You don’t want to hurt innocents who you’ve dragged into your mess.

To your surprise, the man looks completely calm, as if he’s used to dark, shady men bursting into his house at the crack of dawn. He hefts the ax in hand, a woodcutter’s ax, you realise, and levels it at the two of you. “Who are you?”

Wooyoung steps protectively in front of you, shielding you from the man’s sight with his own body. “I won’t let you touch my friend. Put the ax down and I’ll answer your questions.” His voice is completely even, not a trace of doubt in his words.

The young man snorts, keeping his eyes locked on Wooyoung’s. They look like they could be around the same age, you realise. “Don’t tell me what to do in my own house, intruder. Take off your mask, put down that gun you’re holding, then I’ll put down my ax and maybe listen to your high tales about how you ended up here doing something completely not illegal.”

The two are locked in tense silence for a moment. Then Wooyoung’s shoulders relax slightly.

“Fair enough.” He pulls down the black scarf around his face, revealing his well defined features, before setting the gun down. “If you help treat my friend, I might even throw in an extra high tale about how he got shot. It’s a pretty interesting story.”

The man eyes you for a moment, but Wooyoung instinctively moves to protect you, shielding you from his sight. Then he lowers his ax, sighing with a reluctant smile on his lips. Your eyes widen as you realise that he’s missing two fingers on his left hand. “I hate this, but I doubt anyone so protective of his friend could be such a terrible person. Seohyun, you go back to bed for now, I’ll handle this.”

The young woman glances at her husband in worry. “Honey, will you be alright?”

He smiles at her reassuringly, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Of course. Now go back to bed, the baby needs their sleep.”

Your eyes widen with awe. “She’s pregnant?”

Seohyun’s eyes widen as you speak and a hand comes up to protect her belly, as if afraid you might somehow attack her. You raise your hands in surrender, peeling off your mask as well. “I’m sorry… I’m a healer but I’ve never seen anything to do with childbirth before so…”

The man gestures for her to leave and she does, padding lightly out of the room. You can still hear soldiers searching for you outside.

“What are your names?” The man seats himself at the opposite end of the room, ax still in hand. Wooyoung glances at you, and you nod at him.

Be honest. This man seems like a sharp one.

“I’m Wooyoung. This is Chin Hae.” Wooyoung answers, and he looks back at you in worry at the blood still seeping from your leg. “If you don’t mind postponing this little talk, do you mind letting me treat my friend first?”

The man nods. “Go ahead.” But then his eyes darken slightly. “But any funny business, and I’m chopping the two of you up.” The ease with which he wields the massive ax lets you know this is no joke.

You shiver a little, but Wooyoung moves to get water from the bucket in the corner of the kitchen and tears a strip of cloth from his cloak. He douses the cloth in water and kneels in front of you, passing you his glove. It is made from leather, after all.

“Will this do?”

You nod, opening your mouth.

Wooyoung frowns in confusion. “What do you want me to do?”

“Put it in my mouth so I don’t wake the whole town when you clean my wound.” You tell him and you can see the pain in his eyes at what you’re going to have to endure. Wooyoung gently places the glove in your mouth and you bite down hard on it.

“I’m sorry.” Wooyoung whispers, raising the rag to your wound. “I’ll be gentle.”

You simply press your face into his shoulder in consent.

The first drag of the cloth against your wound and you feel like you want to die. Your hands come up to grip Wooyoung’s forearms, squeezing so tightly you’re sure there will be finger shaped bruises on his skin. He doesn’t make a sound, however, intently swiping the wound clean as possible, and your tears soak into the sleeve of his shirt in silence.

Finally he pulls away, putting the bloodied rag aside and you slump against the wall, panting for air as the glove falls from your mouth. Your hair sticks to the back of your neck with the cold sweat, and Wooyoung bustles to wrap a strip of cloth around your ankle.

“That didn’t hurt at all.” You manage to croak out, your throat raw from screaming into the glove. You feel boneless, as frail and weak as a newborn baby. Wooyoung’s eyes are soft with worry and concern as he leans you against the wall in a more comfortable position.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” Your eyes are so heavy, as if you’re physically incapable of keeping them open. You can see the woodcutter watching the two of you quietly, respectfully not making a sound. “Wooyoung-hyung?”

“Yeah, Chin Hae?” He seats himself next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder for you to lean against. You settle against him, every muscle in your body sagging from complete exhaustion. He’s soft and warm, like a pillow. You snuggle into his side, too far gone to actually register what you’re doing.

“I’m sorry about the trouble I caused.” He stiffens at your words, before one hand comes to rest in your hair, gentle and warm.

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers back, stroking your head. “Get some rest.”

That’s the last thing you hear before darkness swallows you.

When you do wake up, there’s something warm surrounding you.

You blink the sleep from your eyes. There’s a freshness to your limbs that wasn’t there the night before, and your back is cushioned on something soft that is definitely not the wall that you fell asleep against.

Something soft… that is moving?

Then you realise you’re sitting in a chair, not the bed that you normally sleep in, nor your hammock in the rigging that you’ve learned to sleep tangled in since Seonghwa chose to bed down in the sickbay. There’s something resting on your shoulder.

You turn your head.

The first thing you see is Wooyoung’s face, slack in sleep and breathing quietly through his mouth, which is lolling open just a little. Something about him softens in his sleep, the usual confidence in his face replaced with gentleness and warmth. He looks years younger than he really is, not a battle hardened pirate but just a boy, still in the process of growing up. He’s so close you can literally count every eyelash, feel the warm puff of his breath in the crook of your neck.

You stay that way for a moment, taking in every detail on his face and basking in the warmth of his hold, because when are you going to get an opportunity to have such an intimate moment with him?

Thank you, you want to breath. Thank you for not leaving me behind.

Then your eyes fly open as the memories of what happened last night flood through your mind. The book. The gunshot. The man with the ax.

You glance around the kitchen, but it’s empty except for the two of you.

“Wooyoung-hyung.” You shake his shoulder and he stirs just a little, mumbling into the back of your neck. You can feel the leather of his collar pressing into your skin, and you suddenly want to ask him why he wears it, but you suppose it will have to wait for another time.

“Five more minutes, San.” He rasps, voice still rough from sleep and the night before. You don’t know whether to be insulted by the fact that he’s just mistaken you for your master.

“Wooyoung-hyung, it’s me, Chin Hae.”

At that, Wooyoung straightens up blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like a cat stretching after a nap.

“What’s going on?”

“Where’s the man from yesterday?” You ask, searching the room for him. It looks like it’s late morning already, from the way the living room is illuminated. Wooyoung blinks sleepily and for a moment, he looks like a lost child looking for his favorite stuffed toy.

“Ahh, him? We had a good talk yesterday and bonded over what it was like to run from the Royal Navy.” He yawns, running a hand through his hair. The chains of his shackles jingle a little. “Apparently when he was younger he had a run in with them and helped his friend escape them too, but he lost a couple of fingers in the process.”

Your eyebrows raise as Wooyoung untangles himself from you, moving over to pick up a plate of bread rolls on the table. “I can’t believe we were lucky enough to get the one person along this entire row of houses who wasn’t going to rat us out to the guards the second they saw us.”

“Such little faith you have in me.” Wooyoung sighs in mock disappointment, passing you a croissant. You dig into it hungrily, your stomach grumbling from lack of food. “You should know I seduced my way out of capture situation with Yunho before, but that’s a story for a different time.”

A sad smile crosses your face uncomfortably as you take another bite. “You’re really good at seducing women, huh? You seem to have a lot of female friends.”

Wooyoung’s face darkens just a second, an unreadable expression crossing his face. “Yeah… but I’ll never trust myself with any of them.”

Your heart breaks for a moment as you realise what that means for you. “Why?”

The gunner inhales a little as he sits on the kitchen table, head resting against the wall with a forlorn expression on his face. “Before I came to the Treasure, when I was younger… I was sold to women for such… pleasures. The only relationship I know how to share with them is one of lust, not one of friendship or actual love.”

You feel something heavy in your chest, like a stone sinking to the bottom of the sea. You can’t let the bond you’ve built with Wooyoung just break, simply because of this. No, how could anyone do this to Wooyoung as a child? How could they scar him like that?

You make your decision.

If you can keep Wooyoung, the one who was willing to risk his life for yours, as a friend, you don’t mind masquerading as a man for the rest of your life.

Wooyoung looks so lost in his past that you’re desperate to wrench him out of it.

“Hey, hyung?”

He snaps out of his little reverie to look at you in surprise. “Yeah?”

You undo the bandage he’s done around your leg, pointing at it. The wound has started to heal slightly, the scab over the wound having formed, but you know of a way to speed it up. You’ve been practicing again and again for days now, and San says you’ve gotten a pretty good hang of it already, but this is the first time you’re going to do it without your master at your side.

“Look.” You say.

You focus on your body, the blood that rushes through every vein, the energy that lives in every part of you, that gives you strength to move and live. You gather it and channel it down to your injury, and a gentle pulse runs down your leg.

Wooyoung’s eyes widen at the sight. “That’s so cool! I didn’t know you could do it too!”

You nod as you feel the pieces of bone moving and shifting, joining back to form one, single piece. The torn flesh weaves itself together and skin crawls over the wound, before the entire injury simply vanishes, as if it’s never existed.

What should have taken weeks to heal, done in a single minute.

Wooyoung frowns a little. “Won’t that have negative repercussions, though?”

“Yeah. I’ll probably sleep like the dead once we’re back on ship.” You tell him as you stand, testing out your foot. It still feels a little achy, but it’s better than yesterday. “Doing this with too severe wounds will drain you of too much stored energy and you might even die, so master told me to do this only with small wounds and in cases of great need.”

“Why didn’t you do it last night, then?” The gunner asks as he passes you the last bun. You take it gratefully.

“I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate enough with the pain. I probably would have exploded some small bit of me, and I really didn’t want that.”

Wooyoung is about to nod agreement, but then someone appears at the door.

“Wooyoung-ah.” It’s the man from yesterday and they’re already addressing each other informally. Your partner rises to incline his head.

“Thanks for the food and letting us stay the night.”

The man shakes his head. “No problem. It’s the least I could do for someone so dedicated to his friend.” He glances at you. “You have a good friend, Chin Hae. Do avoid getting shot sometime.”

Your cheeks flush a little, but you nod.

“I will.”

The man turns back to Wooyoung. “You two should leave now before the morning guard begins their patrol.”

The two of you exchange glances. You need to get back to captain and report what you’d found out. The man ushers you to the front door, holding it open for the two of you.

“I wish you the best of luck, mate. Anytime you need to invade the official’s building again, just drop by. But don’t make too much trouble for them. They’ve done this town good.”

Wooyoung turns to him as you leave the building into the busy street. “Thank you, Soobin.”

The man waves and the door shuts before him.

“Well, that was a pretty eventful night.” Wooyoung stretches his arms above his head, cracking his back as the two of you make your way back to ship. Soobin’s house is surprisingly close to where the Treasure is moored. You nod.

“I can’t wait to take a long, long nap.”

The gangplank creaks under your feet like a welcome home, your footsteps echoing together. It’s surprisingly quiet, peaceful and you don’t hear the normal ruckus you usually would this late in the morning. You frown. Are they that tired today?

Wooyoung detects it too and pauses, sniffing the air. Then he turns to look at you in worry.

“Something isn’t quite right-”

“Seize them!”

You jerk around in horror, only to be caught around the middle by an arm. You struggle but it’s useless, the man holding you is simply too strong for you to fight off. The first thing you see is Wooyoung being torn from you by two guards as they strip him of his weapons, forcing him to his knees.

The next thing you feel is the cold steel of a musket being pressed against your temple and a smirk against your ear.

“Got you.”


	22. Gunshot (Edited Ver.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Some mentions of whipping, a bit of gore, hopefully not so much pain (but still read at your own risk)

You freeze.

Every muscle in your body goes taut, a cold shiver running down your spine. The arm around your waist is firm, strong and from the almost unbreakable grip he has on you, he doesn’t intend on letting you go any soon.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” The man behind you purrs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive shell of your ear. A squeak escapes you as the barrel of the musket digs into your temple. You might be terrified to the point of near unconsciousness, but part of your mind registers that this isn’t the same lieutenant that you had seen yesterday. “The rest of you, show yourselves.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as the rest of your crew come into sight.

Most of them are tied up in groups with rope, their heads hanging low as Navy soldiers kick and push them out of the cargo hold, where they had been hidden from sight. So that was why the ship had been so strangely silent when you and Wooyoung had returned to the Treasure.

They had been captured.

“Hello, hello, hello, my two dear pirates.” The man behind you locks one arm around your neck, dragging you up the gangplank with him and you choke, your fingers scrabbling fruitlessly against his arm. His well polished boots click smartly on the deck of the Treasure as he addresses all of the pirates on board. “Now, we’re finally all here together. I’ve been waiting for this the whole night.”

There’s poison in his voice, sweet as honey and as dangerous as snake venom. You don’t dare to struggle against him for fear of being shot point blank in the head, but his hold on you is making you panic and he’s crushing your windpipe, making every breath an arduous effort.

Before you, you see Jongho on the ground, arms in heavy iron shackles used only for slaves, beaten and bloodied black and blue by the Navy soldiers. Your eyes widen in horror at the sight of him. Glancing around more desperately, you try to spot your master, Yunho, Yeosang, the captain.

“Ahh, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m head of port investigation, Leon Bastiville. I heard two of you had a fun trip to the governor’s last night.” The officer behind you yanks your head back by the hair and you let out a muffled whimper, tears trailing down your cheeks as he twists the musket playfully against your temple. “Did you enjoy yourselves? I heard one of you got shot by my men… Was it you, sweet one?”

Every alarm, every warning bell, every danger alert you have in your instinct is screaming in your head at full volume, telling you to get the hell away from this man and put an entire ocean between the two of you, but you’re too terrified to move an inch. Something seems off about him, as if you can feel the sheer madness radiating from him like some sort of black miasma. You’re scared. You don’t want to die.

Leon suddenly rams the musket against your temple hard enough to bruise and your face snaps to the side from the force, fresh tears springing from your eyes at the pain. “Answer me!”

“Yes…” You choke out, voice trembling beyond your control. Behind you, Wooyoung snarls and yanks against his bonds, but his two guards are too strong for him to do anything.

“Since you replied so nicely, let me tell you what you missed last night.” The officer sighs, stroking your hair gently. You’re so used to the same action being done to you by San and Wooyoung, but this man’s touch feels corrosive against you and you try your best to flinch away from him.

“Stay still.” Leon’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper, silken and dark. “I don’t want my finger to slip.”

Terror, cold as frost, spreads through your entire body. You can’t move.

“While the two of you were off causing your little commotion back there at the official’s building,” The officer drawls, playfully resting his chin on your shoulder as he addresses the crew, “one of my men ran back to the harbor to report it to me. My colleague that saw to you yesterday, Yoongi, was already suspicious of you. He smelled gunpowder on your ship, but your little de facto captain told us that you hadn’t been fired on.”

Every movement he makes, you can feel.

“So when I heard about the events of last night, I decided to check the ship out for myself.” His cheeks press against yours when he smiles. “And lo and behold, what did I find? The Pirate King himself, with his one green eye and his Treasure.”

Something cold wraps around your throat.

It was your fault.

You remember everything. The book, the guards, the delay because of your injury.

Captain.

“Bring him out.” Leon clicks his tongue and you see your captain shoved forward, head bowed and hands bound in front of him. Part of you desperately wants to run to the man who named you, to insist he never incline his head to someone he doesn’t respect, but you are completely powerless now. He looks so small, so defeated that you want to cry. Your captain’s head is bowed, and it’s all your fault.

“So, I wonder what you were trying to achieve by coming to Nassau.” The officer sighs, rolling the question on his tongue. Captain simply remains silent, not saying a word as he averts his eyes to the deck. You can feel Leon’s mood darkening at your captain’s refusal to speak.

“Bring me the cat.”

Cat? Why would this officer call for a cat, of all things?

Your question is answered when a young soldier steps forward, holding a thin, dark shape in his hand. Dread fills you when you realise what it is.

“I hope you can bear the claws of a cat o’ nine tails, milord.” Leon smiles, looking rather amused. Disgust and loathing rises in you at how sick in the mind this man is. He jerks a thumb at your captain. “Flog him till he talks.”

Your heart drops in your chest.

“Or stops moving.”

Your head jerks up before you can stop it.

No.

The members of the crew have similar reactions, all of them screaming some protest or another, but they are quickly silenced by their guards with some sort of blow or slap. Yunho gets backhanded so hard across the face that he collapses to the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. You see Yeosang at your right, face pale as a sheet and tears silently streaming down his cheeks.

Before your eyes, your captain is stripped of his shirt. He doesn’t make a sound, only stares forward, and you can feel the irritation pricking at Leon’s skin when he doesn’t react the way he wants him to.

An officer raises a whip to your captain’s bare back and brings it down.

You flinch at the sight and your eyes close instinctively against it, you can’t bear to watch. You hear the whistling of the cat o’ nine tails as it comes down against your captain’s back, the sharp stinging sound it makes against his skin, the soft cry it tears from Yeosang’s mouth. Then the sound repeats, again and again and again, till you lose count and tears rolls down your cheeks, your chest heaving with silent sobs.

He doesn’t make a sound.

Why? Why doesn’t your captain try to fight back? Why isn’t he trying to escape?

Your captain’s arms give out from under him, and he collapses to the ground, choking from trying to gasp for air and stifle the cries that fight to leave his mouth at the same time.

“Not willing to talk, huh?” Leon breathes, but you can hear the barely restrained fury in his voice. He must not be used to having people resist him like this. The musket digs deeper into your temple, but honestly you don’t care anymore, at this point, you’d rather he just shoot you and spare you the pain of watching your captain get flogged. “Should we move on to another victim?”

The officer’s eyes search the trembling crew for his next victim, but a soft groan from your captain stops him.

“Are you tired already?” Leon turns back in shock, only to see Hongjoong forcing himself back into a kneeling position, arms shaking against the pain as he looks at the Naval officer with a chuckle. “Maybe you’re not training your men hard enough.”

You want to slap your captain for the sheer stupidity of his words. At this rate, he’ll bleed out and die, or the officer may smash the bone of his vertebrae. And even if he does survive the whipping, the size of this wound is so huge that there’s no way it’ll be able to heal without him getting some sort of major infection.

If the whipping doesn’t kill him, the infection will.

What is your captain doing?

The young guard administering the lashes looks every bit as uncomfortable as you feel, glancing at his superior officer in worry. “Sir, I’ve already administered fifty lashes, but he might die if I continue-”

San’s sobs can be heard from where you stand.

“Carry on.” Leon spits, voice rising in vindictive glee. But before the young guard can protest or carry out his orders, the officer pauses. “Wait.”

Silence drags across the deck as the commanding officer seems to be contemplating something. Then he turns to look at you, in his arms.

A terrifying smile looms on his face and for a second, your heart stops beating.

Leon turns back to address your captain.

“If you’re not willing to talk when being whipped…” He pauses for a short moment, glancing over at your captain. “… I wonder if your tongue will loosen if I do it to one of your crew, then?”

The question sinks in.

“No!” You hear San, Yeosang and Wooyoung scream simultaneously at once, but you can’t register the words that Leon has just said. They’re going to whip you, probably flog you to death, just to get captain to talk…

Your eyes meet your captain’s, blood roaring through your ears. And ever since the whipping started, your captain looks afraid.

“No-” Hongjoong begins to say, but then Leon’s fingers are at the front of your shirt, pulling at the clasp.

Your eyes fly wide in realisation. Your bindings!

This may seem like the worst time to think about this, but you can’t have your gender revealed now. Not when the rest of the crew already had begun to trust you so deeply as one of their own, not when Wooyoung had confessed to you the some of the deepest, darkest secrets of his heart.

Uncaring of the gun at your head, you flail and thrash against him, to no avail.

Leon growls, fury vibrating through him. “Stop struggling!” With that, he shoves you to the ground, the sound of cloth tearing filling the air as you crash to the deck next to your captain.

There’s a sudden silence as everyone takes you in. You can see every emotion in Hongjoong’s green eye, shock, pain, realisation, then betrayal.

“A woman…” Leon steps over to you, sheer wonderment and interest in his voice. You don’t like where this is going. He yanks you to your feet by the hair and you scream in pain as every nerve ending on your head floods you with a sharp agony. The smile on his face is something you’ll see in nightmares for days to come. “She’s coming back with us. I hope you’re pure for sale, my sweet, but I suppose that may be difficult when you’re on the same ship as so many men.”

Terror swallows you whole.

He wants to sell you as a-

Hongjoong lunges to his feet faster than you can blink. You gasp at the sight of your captain, who’s somehow standing despite the fact that he should be physically in too much pain to do so. His green eye is burning with fire, an uncontrollable fire that ravages everything in its path and burns the world around it to cinders.

The look in his eyes alone lets you understand why he was named the Pirate King. Nobody could ever match the sheer determination and will that burns in his very soul, a roaring blaze that even the ocean cannot put out.

For a moment, he’s as blinding as the sun.

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong shouts, and immediately the head gunner bursts into action, his ropes falling from his wrists as he tosses three smoke bombs you know were hidden in his shirt to the ground. The deck explodes into a smoky mixture of ash, fine sand and ground glass that San had concocted a long time ago, sending the Navy officers into a panic as they scatter, eyes watering from the blinding powder. The crew of the Treasure, already long familiar with this ever since Yeosang started experimenting with these smoke bombs, turn away from the wind and keep their eyes and noses shut tight against it.

Wooyoung takes this opportunity to use a knife hidden in his boot to cut through the bonds of Jongho and Yunho, who roar into battle like two furious lions. You watch as Jongho tears the sword of a officer off him with his bare hands, before picking the unfortunate man up and tossing him into the sea mercilessly, before smashing through anyone in his way like a one man battering ram.

Yunho rips a spear from the hands of a younger soldier, kicking him to the side before tearing through the deck, freeing as many of his crew mates as possible, all of who join in the fight, armed or not.

In a single second, the tides have shifted.

Leon hisses in rage as the battle happens before him, dragging you back with him as he moves towards the gangplank. The gun has long left your head, Leon using it to sweep the area for any potential intruders.

“You’re coming with me.” He growls, yanking you back. You try to fight back, but he simply smacks you so hard that you feel like you’ve been knocked silly for a moment, head swimming as you try to get your bearings. “I need to call for reinforcements, so-”

Hongjoong raises a short piece of rope with two knots done on it. For some reason, you immediately know what it is, the power thrumming through it too immense to be that of any human.

“Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind, but the third knot would unleash a hurricane. Hongjoong-hyung has one of these, but he’s used the first knot already.”

But you’re already on the gangplank, and if Hongjoong pulls the second knot now, you’ll be left at the harbor alone, never to see them again. Your eyes meet your captain’s, and for a second, you see them falter.

Suddenly, he flies out of nowhere, lunging for your captor. Leon snarls and tries to kick him away, but then he raises a short knife and buries it in Leon’s arm. The man holding you stumbles back onto the gangplank, falling onto the ground and your savior takes your hand.

“Let’s go!” He shouts, yanking you with him as the two of you sprint for the ship. Seeing this, Hongjoong raises a hand to undo the second knot on the rope.

You glance back, only to see your captor’s face twisted into one of hatred, the loaded musket pointed straight at your backs.

Hongjoong pulls free the second knot on the rope.

The hand holding yours yanks you in front of him and into his chest, shielding you with himself.

The sound of successive gunshots fill the air.

You feel his body jerk once. Twice. Thrice.

The wind picks up in speed, and all of a sudden the Treasure is speeding away from Nassau, leaving the port island a mere speck in the distance.

“Chin… Hae…” You hear him gasp out through ragged breaths. His chest is heaving against you. You can’t breathe. You can’t think.

Like an insect trapped in amber, you watch, frozen in time, as the arms holding you close slacken, falling from your shoulders. Then he crumples to his knees, crashing to the ground, and that is when you see the blood pouring from three different holes in his back.

Your mouth opens in a scream of his name.

“Yeosang-hyung!”


	23. Energy Transfer

“Yeosang-hyung!”

The scream that leaves your mouth is completely uncontrolled, the breath in your lungs had simply forced their way to your mouth, where your tongue had formed the words, and his name had torn itself from your lips.

“Yeosang-hyung!”

For an infinite second, everything fades into the background. The screams, the fighting still going on in the background, the clash of swords, nothing matters except the man lying quiet and still at your feet. You can’t move.

Blood pools on the ground, bright crimson soaking into the wood of the deck. Yeosang’s body is unmoving, bloody and broken and momentarily, a maelstrom of complete terror crashes through you, wiping every thought and sensation from your mind except for a single sentence.

He’s dead.

You sink to your knees in absolute shock, watching as the deep red of his life blood oozes from his wound, staining his brown shirt almost inky black, crawling over his back like a curse mark. Your heart stops with every gush of blood from his wounds.

He’d saved you.

Your fingers curl around the sleeve of his shirt, your forehead pressed against his shoulder blade.

He had protected you with his body.

You feel your body shaking erratically with every heaving breath you take.

He’d sacrificed his life for yours.

Your throat hurts, raw and stinging. You’re confused for a moment, until you realise that you’re screaming, again and again into his shoulder.

“I hate you.”

Those had been the last words you’d said to him. The last thing you had done to him was hurt him, wound him beyond your comprehension, and yet, he had still chosen to save you.

Something warm mixes with the tears on your cheeks as a heart wrenching scream of pain tears itself from your mouth. It caresses your face, a soft, gentle puff of air.

“Don’t cry…”

The voice is painfully similar to Yeosang’s and you immediately understand how Seonghwa must be going insane from the voices of his dead family in his ears, the two words have the complete opposite of their intended effect, and the second you hear his voice in your head, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, tears soaking into his shoulder.

Even in death, his warmth is a comfort, just like when he was alive.

“Look at me…”

You shake your head desperately, wailing as you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, past the tears, past the blood. Guilt wraps itself around your throat, forcing out every breath of air from your lungs in the form of hopeless cries that rent the air around it to shards. You feel as if someone has physically dug their fingers into your chest, slowly crushing your heart, and the pain is all to real.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Please… Chin Hae… Look at me…”

You finally submit to his plea, bowing over him as tears stream down your cheeks. Please, please, please, just make his voice stop.

“Chin Hae…”

Your heart screeches to a halt as you stare unblinkingly at his face, uncomprehending.

He’s smiling so softly at you, blood smeared across his cheek and lips, but his cloudy, somewhat glazed eyes are gazing unwavering into yours, as if he doesn’t want to let them go. And even bloodstained, bruised, and sickly pale from the loss of blood, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve seen all your life.

“Yeosang!” Someone rushes to Yeosang’s side, but you barely notice. You’re too busy studying every feature on Yeosang’s face, from the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the gentle slope of his nose, the softness of his cheeks, the blood splattered birthmark nestled right beneath his eye.

He’s breathing.

He’s here with you.

And he’s alive.

“Choi Chin Hae!” Someone smacks you across the face and you’re finally broken out of your reverie to look at the person calling your name, it’s your master, and he looks furious with you. “Your patient is dying! Snap out of it!”

Terror and determination swarms through you as you snap back to reality, eyes narrowing and you force yourself to maintain some facade of calm. Right, right, right. You need to get your shit together, or else Yeosang will bleed out and die in a matter of minutes and it’ll be all your fault.

Focus!

You and San spring into work like the cogs of a well oiled machine, moving to tend to the different gunshots. You take the one closer to his shoulder blade, the musket ball having torn clean through the flesh of his shoulder but missing his carotid artery, blood is seeping from the wound and not pumping from it, no major artery must have been hit.

You desperately want to thank every god you know for this, but you have no time at the moment. Every fibre of your being is concentrated on saving Yeosang’s life, and you move like a man possessed, reaching and preparing alcohol compresses, trying to stem the blood flow.

Every bandage is soaked red.

Yeosang watches you work quietly, eyes still clouded over with pain and blood loss, the occasional whimper escaping him as you and San try to stop his bleeding. His skin is starting to fall in temperature, becoming cold and clammy, and when you take his pulse for the third time, the beat fluttering weakly like a caged bird under your fingertips, it’s much too rapid for someone bleeding out on the ground.

Terror grips at you.

You’re losing him.

“Chin Hae…” Fingers reach for yours and you take them desperately, squeezing back. His eyes trail your face and his lips move soundlessly, as if trying to say something to you. You tilt your head so his mouth is right at your ear, eyes mere inches from each other.

“Yeah?” A sob leaves your mouth, but you try to keep your voice steady. Yeosang stares at you, eyes never leaving yours, but he doesn’t seem to be able to see you anymore, gazing blankly at the same spot the whole time. The hand around your heart squeezes a little harder and you find it hard to breathe.

“I’m sorry…” He whispers, and suddenly you want to scream and cry at the same time because of this stupidly selfless man, who even almost at his deathbed is still apologizing to you, thinking that you’re still upset with him. His voice is nothing above a weak breath. “I’m deeply sorry that I betrayed your trust like that…”

You shake your head furiously, fresh tears streaming from your eyes. “I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you. It was my fault. I should have tried to understand you, tried to-”

“If I don’t make it…” He rasps quietly, and to your horror, you feel the grip on your fingers weakening. His eyes are starting to fade, the soft, deep brown closing. “Beneath my bed… In captain’s cabin… there is…”

Then his fingers lose their grip on yours, falling to the ground with a thud.

The sound reverberates in your ears like a gunshot.

Sheer, undiluted panic and forced calm rage a war in your mind. You firmly shove the part of your brain that is screaming in circles in your mid and shove it into the bilge basement, your trembling fingers reaching for his neck.

For a second, cold creeps over you when you feel nothing under your fingertips. Just as you’re about to scream and tear yourself to pieces, there’s a weak flutter.

Joy bursts in you, but you have no time to celebrate.

“He’s going into shock. We’re losing him.” The words sound foreign on your tongue as you turn to your master, fear etched in every line on your face. San continues pressing on his two musket wounds, one with the lead shot still embedded inside for fear of causing more bleeding, but you can see his mind furiously searching for a solution to save his friend.

Then he looks at you seriously, straight in the eye. “Get me a long stick.”

Your heart drops in your chest as you realise what he intends to do. “Master, that’s not safe-”

“I said,” San repeats very slowly, as if you didn’t hear him the first time, “get me a long stick.”

His voice is a command. You can’t refuse it.

Leaping to your feet, you search the area around you desperately. The fight is everywhere, but the pirates are forcing the soldiers to surrender their weapons… or die. You spot a wooden spear clattering to the ground as a soldier falls to his knees, blood gushing from his eye, but you have no time to care about him. You grab the weapon and rush back to your master, whose eyes are closed in concentration.

“Master?” You ask, kneeling beside him, the spear in your hands. The two of you have practiced this drill so many times, but you would have never thought you would ever do one of such magnitude in your lifetime.

“When his breathing returns to normal, stop me immediately.” San instructs you quietly, and without waiting for you to reply, he reaches forward and places his hands on Yeosang’s back.

Panic swallows you for a moment. Your master is walking a tightrope as fine as a sewing thread, with his very life dangling in the balance. What San is attempting to perform is a limited energy transfer, in which he connects the energies between his and Yeosang’s bodies, allowing his own energy to flow into Yeosang’s and heal his most dire of wounds.

But that isn’t the dangerous part.

With the state Yeosang’s body is in, Yeosang will unconsciously struggle to take every bit of San’s energy as possible to heal himself, even if he doesn’t want to do such a thing. Your master’s reserve store of energy will run out, and Yeosang will tap into San’s life source itself, essentially draining the healer of every bit of life.

In the best case scenario, your master will be in a catatonic state for the rest of his life.

In the worst case scenario, his body will be reduced to a pile of smoking ashes.

As your master is more experienced with controlling the flow of his energy to Yeosang’s, he’s going to be the one doing the operation. It’s your job to end it before your master is permanently damaged.

Fear lodges in your belly as you feel the weight of your responsibility settling on your shoulders.

You watch with bated breath as San inhales deeply, keeping his breathing in control as he searches for Yeosang’s soul, reaching for his. You can’t see this happening, but you know in theory what is going on, and it scares you that you may lose both your master and Yeosang in this attempt.

Suddenly, San’s eyes snap open. He looks straight ahead blankly, barely seeming to notice you, his gaze completely focused on Yeosang. You watch the bleeding with desperate intent, willing with all your mind for the flow of blood to slow, for him to breathe steadily once again, the prayer echoing over and over in your head like a mantra.

Please. Please. Please.

Whether it’s been seconds or an infinity, you don’t know, but you finally see the stream of crimson turn into a gentle flow, then it merely seeps from his wounds, and his chest starts to rise and fall once more.

An indescribable joy wells up in you, it blooms in your chest like a sunflower, relief tugging at you.

You turn to tell your master, but then you see San’s face pale and drawn, cold sweat trickling down his forehead. His breathing is hard and uneven, and to your horror, his eyes are glazed over with exhaustion.

There isn’t a second to spare.

Using the wooden spear, you knock your master’s hands away from Yeosang’s body and San slumps to the ground, heaving for air. He blinks blankly at you, as if completely disconnected from the world, but he’s alive, Yeosang is alive, the crew is safe and well.

That’s all that matters to you.

“You did it, master!” You sniff, wiping the tears from your eyes as you tell your master of his feat. “You saved Yeosang-hyung.”

But San’s grim words strip every bit of relief you feel.

“Only for now.”


	24. Chapter 24 - Jar Of Clay

The ship, for the first time since you stepped upon it, is completely silent.

As silent as grave, the Treasure drifts through the night, lost and aimless. You’re seated where you first started upon this ship, at the main mast, waiting for your judgement.

The deck is completely void of anyone.

Your fingers come up to touch the crystal hanging around your neck. The crew can’t bear to look you, your mere presence like a stain in their eyes. It’s your fault. It’s your fault the ship ended up in such disaster. Your fault Yeosang got shot. Your fault that Seonghwa has lost his only chance of making amends.

You can’t find it in you to cry anymore. Wrung dry, every bit of you completely exhausted, you simply want to close your eyes and sleep for eternity, uncaring and unknowing of everything around you.

You’ve had enough. You’ve done enough. You just want to sleep.

San is tending to Yeosang in the sickbay, whose life and death hangs in the very balance. Even exhausted, the healer refuses to stop keeping vigil over the navigator, afraid that with every second that passes he might slip into darkness, that every breath might be his last.

You haven’t spoken to a single person since the battle ended. The only one who managed to comfort you even just a little was Jongho, who gave you a tight squeeze before going below deck with the rest of the crew to lick his wounds.

You shouldn’t have come to this ship.

You hear heavy footsteps on the floorboards behind you and you instinctively know who it is. They stop behind you, a tense silence settling in the air.

“Captain wants to see you.”

You can’t muster the energy to answer the quartermaster. All you do is push yourself to your feet, and for the first time since the battle, your eyes meet.

His stare is one of barely restrained fury and anger, you can feel it radiating from him like a burning stove. From the look in his eyes, he probably wants to hurt you in every painful way possible, but he keeps his fists clenched at the sides, his teeth grinding as he fights to maintain a facade of calm.

You wish he’d hurt you. At least that might distract you from the crushing anguish in your chest.

But he doesn’t, so you simply get up and follow him.

Right before you stop at the captain’s cabin, your hand lingers on the doorknob. Wooyoung had been in the captain’s cabin before you, explaining the events of the night before. Are you ready to face the eyes of your captain and crew, to take the punishment for your lies?

You aren’t and you never will be, but you push the door open anyway and step inside.

The first thing you see before you is your captain, sitting at the desk. His back has been treated with San’s most potent cleaning spirits and as much healing energy he can spare, wrapped with a light gauze to prevent infection and numbed with one of your master’s anesthetic concoctions, but you still have no idea how he’s physically able to sit upright before you.

Wooyoung is seated at the side, head bowed against his chest. He’s picking at his shackles, something you know he does when he’s upset about something, and your heart twists in your chest.

When you step into the room, he doesn’t look at you.

Your captain’s face is unreadable, completely inscrutable. It’s like the first time you’d met him, all over again, when you had been terrified of him, fearing for your life. It’s like the beginning, when Mingi had forced you to your knees in front of the captain, and you had felt more than learned exactly how dangerous this man was.

But at the same time, it’s not.

Now, the cold sting of reality is like a steel blade to your chest. The crew had picked you up from nothing, given you warmth, comfort and a home. They had given you a name, protected you like you were one of their own, and made you family.

And the only thing you had given them in return were lies.

Your captain’s one green eye meets yours.

People often say that eyes are the windows to the soul, but you can read nothing from your captain, and it scares you.

“Tell me everything.”

So you do. You tell him everything, the truth, unfiltered, gushing from you. How you truly had no memories the day you had awoken. Hearing the voice of the sea monster in your mind. Your visit to the sea witch. How you had single handedly caused the whole mission to fail, effectively knocking over the first domino in a line, and essentially screwing everything up for the Treasure and its crew.

The whole time, neither Wooyoung nor Hongjoong say a word.

When your story ends, Hongjoong merely meets your eyes coolly in spite of the agonizing pain he must be in, shifting to look at you. It’s as if he’s never met you, never shared any memories with you, never cared in the least about you. Your blood turns to ice.

“Thank you for telling me.” He replies calmly, but you recognise the expression on his face. It’s a cold, silent anger, one that grows in the chest and wraps its poisonous vines around the heart and lungs, slowly choking its host with emotion. “I’ll decide what to do about this at a later time-”

“Captain!” San bursts into the room, you whirl around in shock to see your master at the doorway, tears spilling over his eyes. Dread crushes you in vice grip at the sight of your master’s face.

“Yeosang’s dying.”

The words are like a sledgehammer to your chest and for a moment, you feel like the air has been knocked out of you. Wooyoung’s eyes darken in horror.

“What?” The gunner breathes, so soft and so desperate, mirroring your own feelings. You can’t even form words to voice the emotions raging in you.

San’s desperate, tear filled eyes meet yours.

“I can’t do anything to save him.” The healer chokes out, body trembling from trying to keep in his sobs. You feel like someone has just swung a hammer at you.

There’s silence as everyone takes in the severity of his words.

“We’re losing him.”

It isn’t enough. San’s healing powers aren’t enough to replace all the blood Yeosang has already lost. The musket wounds are too numerous, leaving the already weakened navigator vulnerable to infections. Yeosang is going to die, and it’s all your fault.

There’s a sudden violent breaking sound and a scream almost leaves your mouth, but it remains lodged in your throat. Your captain has just sent a fist through his desk, and there’s the crunch of the bones in his hand shattering. Blood trickles between his broken fingers and torn skin, but the expression on his face remains unchanged.

It terrifies you.

“Captain-” San begins to say, but Hongjoong gets to his feet and leaves the room before any of you can say another word. The healer dashes after him, and you’re left alone in the room with Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung-” You begin to say, but he cuts you off with a stare so piercing you can feel it physically hurting you.

“Don’t speak to me.”

You recoil, the words like a whip to your soul. Wooyoung has never, ever spoken to you this way before. There’s something dark in his eyes, something brimming with hatred, pain and anguish, and your heart sinks when you realise that it’s all your fault.

Your fault.

“I wish…” Wooyoung struggles to force the words out through a clenched jaw, hands fisted so tight his knuckles are white. “I wish you’d never come with me on this mission.”

You feel like he’s slapped just slapped you across the face.

“I wish…” He continues, grinding his teeth to the point you can almost hear his molars creaking. You continue staring blankly at him. “I wish that you’d died that first battle after Raguza.”

Pain, so physical and so real, buries itself like a sword in your chest.

“I wish… I wish you’d never come onto this ship.”

Your heart shatters into a million, tiny pieces. Part of you wants to make amends somehow, but something in your mind tells you it’s impossible.

“Wooyoung-hyung-” You try to say, reaching for him, but he knocks your hand away.

The look in his eyes is one of terror, like those of a wounded animal, and your heart sinks in your chest. But worse, he looks betrayed, silent fury and hurt rippling under his skin and brimming in his gaze. He trusted you, and you deceived him.

“Stay away from me.” He spits, eyes cold as ice.

With that, he spins on his heel and leaves, never once looking back. The door slams behind him, and then you’re by yourself in the captain’s cabin, trying to process everything that has just happened.

They hate you.

For the first time since you joined the crew, you feel utterly alone.

You slump to the ground like a marionette whose strings have been cut, unable to keep yourself upright anymore. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

If only you hadn’t come to this ship, the sea monster wouldn’t have come for them.

Your fault.

If only the sea monster hadn’t attacked them, the crew wouldn’t have fired their cannons in Navy infested waters.

Your fault.

If only they hadn’t fire their cannons, the Navy wouldn’t have attacked and the ship wouldn’t have stopped at Tortuga.

It’s all your fault.

If the ship didn’t stop at Tortuga, Seonghwa wouldn’t have seen the hanging incident.

You’re nothing but a burden to them.

If you hadn’t dropped the book during the mission, none of this would have happened.

Seonghwa would still be happy and smiling. Wooyoung would be cheerful and messing with everyone on board. Captain wouldn’t have had to endure such torment.

Yeosang would still be well and alive.

You hunch over yourself on your knees, mouth open in a silent scream as you bury your face in your hands. Why did you have to exist? Why did you have to escape that prison cell?

You wish… you wish…

You wish that you’d died the day you’d awoken.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position, but you don’t want to move an inch. You want time to stay this way forever, until the ocean dries up and this world is a scorched wasteland, until the stars themselves burn into nothingness and you are nothing more than a pile of bones.

But then the ship rolls with the waves, and you hear the sound of something wooden scraping against the floor. It manages to pull you out of your sorrow for a short second, your eyes glancing up to see what has ruined your moment of grief.

Under the bed, you see a dark shape shifting with the pitch and roll of the ship, and you frown. Then it comes to you.

“If I don’t make it… Beneath my bed… In captain’s cabin… there is…”

You lunge forward with desperate hands, tugging the wooden chest out from beneath the bed frame. It’s clean, not covered in dust like you’d expected, meaning it must have been put under the bed just recently. Your trembling fingers struggle with the latch and finally, the little iron bar slides free of its catch.

The lid swings open easily and you discover the inside of the chest is full of papers. They’re all of different sizes, different types of material and thickness, some with messy scribbles and some with clean lines, notes jotted neatly on every piece.

In Yeosang’s handwriting.

You realise every piece of paper has been torn out of some book, all with some sort of red marking on them. You pick up the first one you find.

In Egyptian culture, they believed that the god Khnum created children of clay, before placing them in their mother’s womb.

The second piece.

Incan mythology states that Viracocha, god and creator of the universe, formed humans from clay on his second attempt of creating living creatures.

It can’t be what you think it means.

Genesis 2:7 And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.

Finally, you pick up the piece of paper nestled at the bottom of the chest with shaking hands. This one is done completely by Yeosang’s hand, every word and letter in his writing, and you clutch it to you as you read it aloud.

“In Jewish folklore, there were anthropomorphic beings of clay, constructed from the earth. Just as humans were constructed from clay with the breath of life (a soul) by the Creator, humans attempted to create humanoids from clay as well.”

“Who made you?”

“These could usually only be crafted by immensely powerful beings, such as mages or magicians.”

“I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”

“The magicians used them for all sorts of different purposes, such as spell casting to more mundane tasks like housework. They were crafted with shells of clay, made in the image of man, and animated with powerful magic. However, due to the weak state of the bodies, they often crumbled to dust in a few months.”

“I can’t believe I got to lay eyes on a vessel that has only existed for a moon!”

“They were called-”

You feel your heart stop beating the moment your eyes touch that single word.

You understand everything now. Why Yeosang was so desperate to hide this from you, to save you from yourself, to spare your heart from being shattered into a million pieces like a broken jar of clay. He was only trying to help you, to keep you from the truth.

The word leave your mouth as if you’re in a trance. It’s your identity, who you are, what you are.

And it’s like poison on your tongue.

“Golem.”

Yeosang had known what you were the whole time, an animated lump of clay. The paper slips from your fingers and you turn them over in shock, staring at the smooth skin, the lines of your palms. Clay.

A empty, hollow husk without a soul.

Your body is an illusion. Human in form, but nothing more than a puppet made of dirt. You are a golem crafted from clay. For a moment, you raise your arms and are terrified whether you’ll see cracks will appear on your skin.

Yeosang sacrificed his life for you. He chose to take not one, but three bullets, for a piece of clay.

You sink to your knees.

Sea Witch.

Made.

Humans.

Clay.

Golem.

A deprecating chuckle leaves your mouth. So does another, and another. Your laughter grows in volume, then you’re laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all and how true all of farce has turned out to be. Tears leave your eyes, but at this point you don’t even care.

A pile of clay crying? You’d laugh at the thought, except for the fact that you are the pile of clay.

I wish you’d never joined this ship.

The words didn’t hurt as much anymore. You knew what you had to do to make things right again. You burst from the captain’s cabin, thinking of Yeosang, dying in the sickbay, who knew about what you were, and still chose to save you regardless.

You’d never managed to thank him.

Well, you would now.

You’d make everything right again.

After all, no one would mourn a jar of clay.


	25. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Whipping, some gore, a lot of pain and tears (please read at your own risk)

The door to the sickbay creaks as you enter.

Yeosang is the only one lying in the cots, the other injured crew having cleared out to give the navigator some space and reduce the risk of infection. That must explain why there’s nobody here, but that’s all the better for you.

You pull out a small chair and sit next to Yeosang, mentally preparing yourself for what you’re about to do. The sickbay is dark so you can’t see Yeosang’s face very clearly, but you reach for his fingers, giving them a tight squeeze.

He doesn’t respond.

You exhale, gripping his hand tight as you study him for a moment. He’s so silent, so still that you can count every eyelash that sweep his cheeks, watch the way his chest rises and falls as he draws weakened breaths. His skin is a waxy white, pale and bloodless, and you raise a hand to trace every part of his face.

His skin is unnaturally cool under your fingertips.

For minutes you simply sit there, watching him. It’s a silent, intimate moment, your fingers intertwined with his, you breathe when he does and wait for it to happen. Only when your hearts start beating in tandem do you finally apologize.

“I’m sorry, Yeosang-hyung.”

You remember the first time you had met, when he’d taught you how to address different people on board, when he comforted you before your first battle. A man of immense intelligence, great knowledge and a sagely wisdom. A person of infinite kindness, compassion and innocence. Your crew mate. Your family.

You bend down and rest your head next to his, hand in his. For some reason, you already know what is going to happen, you can feel it in your veins, from the way his every breath begins to weaken, from how every heartbeat is slower than the last.

You won’t be able to save him in this stage with only a limited offering of your energy. Pouring what energy you have into his body, in your emotional state now, is only going to mess his body up even more. You’ll wait, wait of his body to completely drain of his own energy, let his entire body still before you return him what he gave you; the gift of life.

An eternity passes.

Yeosang is approaching death.

A strange calm washes over you, as if you’re standing at a beach with the tide lapping at your feet. You watch in silence as Yeosang’s life slips away little by little, like sand in an hourglass, falling away with every passing second. It’s almost time.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him, gazing at his shut eyes as the sound of your heartbeat seems to meld with his. Something in you reaches out, like a wandering, probing hand, flowing through your joined fingers, up Yeosang’s arm and into his body. You search for him, an intangible soft warmth that you can only describe as pure, holding onto it as tightly as you can. “Thank you so much for saving a wretch like me.”

A part of Yeosang’s inner consciousness shifts, something in him starts to struggle to awaken, as if he can feel what you’re intending to do. Of course he can. Both of you are now connected almost as intimately as any two human beings can possibly be. The two of you are physically touching, you inhale when he exhales and your hearts beat together.

There’s only one last thing left for you to do.

“No!”

You can feel him thrashing against your hold on his soul, even if he doesn’t physically move the least. The most primal part of him, his subconscious, his memories, his character, his morals all rolled into one, the part of him that make the man before so wonderfully and uniquely Kang Yeosang. It’s fighting against you, because it knows what you want to do.

You want to redeem yourself.

You can feel his heartbeat weakening from the strain of pumping blood through his entire body, the way his organs are slowly starting to shut down one by one. The tie his soul has to his mortal body is fluttering weakly, struggling to hold on as he desperately tries to survive. You’ll wait, wait for his heart to stop.

Every heartbeat echoes in your ears, each one growing fainter and fainter.

“I’m sorry, everyone.” You murmur softly, closing your eyes. You remember Wooyoung’s face of utter betrayal, the way he had been afraid of someone he would once have died for. You see the bloody back of your captain as he endures the whip. “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I’m sorry that this is the only way I can make amends. I promise after this… you won’t ever have to deal with me again.”

There’s a final thump, and then absolute silence.

Yeosang is dead.

You can feel it begin to happen. Every life supporting reaction in you slows all at once, the magical energy used to power your own body being drawn away from your limbs, gathering right above your heart like a small flame. The warmth grows steadily, until you feel like there’s an actual candle being pressed against your bare skin, and then the liquid heat suddenly streams down your arm and into Yeosang, leaving a cold, freezing sensation in its wake.

Ice seems to fills your veins, frost creeping over your body starting from your toes. At first, it’s merely uncomfortable, but then it soon grows into a painful, cold burning in your flesh. You ignore it and press on.

Suddenly you feel Yeosang’s body jerk upwards like a miracle come true, the whoosh of air entering his lungs, a loud, powerful heartbeat echoing in your ears. Ecstasy fills you, but then the draw changes.

Like a riptide, where your energy had once been streaming into him, the tides suddenly shift, and you feel his survival instinct desperately drawing on any source of energy it can get to save him.

The only one it finds is you.

Equivalent exchange. A life for a life.

A dam breaks in you and in a second, you feel the energy that was once flowing through you being torn away by him. You don’t fight back, letting him take everything from you have, weariness flooding through your limbs. Something snaps in you and you feel something warm trickling from the side of your mouth, but you’re too tired to care.

Sleep… Just let me sleep…

Suddenly, colours and shapes swirl together in front of you, voices echoing here and there, fading in and out. You’re confused for a moment, before the bright, vivid streaks flash before your eyes, and you’re one with the man that is Kang Yeosang.

You walk down a set of marble stairs, arms laden with thick, heavy books. You’re dressed in an expensive, fine wool coat and a pair of reading glasses perch on your nose, through them you see a maid scurrying across your path. She stops immediately upon seeing you, bowing low with a basket of laundry under her arm.

“Young master.” She greets politely, but you can see her glance away shiftily. You frown.

“Where is Father?”

“On another voyage, young master. He left yesterday.”

Disappointment sinks in your chest. That’s the third year you haven’t seen your father’s face. But you force your face into a smile. “I understand. You may go.”

The maid bows again and scurries off.

Years pass in mere seconds, flashing past your eyes.

You’re older now, sitting at a desk and poring over navigational books as you jot down notes on paper. You need to study hard and become a navigator fast, so that you can finally be of some use to your father and accompany him on his voyage to hunt down the legendary Pirate King. A knock sounds at the door, and you remove your glasses, glancing at the door.

“Come in.”

Another maid walks in, bowing before you. “Master will see you now.”

Ecstasy blooms in your heart, it’s been six years already, and you’re finally going to see the face of the man you call Father. When you stand and walk over to the door, there’s a new spring in your step, a joy that you can’t shake off. But before you can leave the room, the maid taps you on the shoulder and passes you a tin of creamy beige colouring.

“For your…” She gestures at the birthmark beneath your eye, and your heart sinks for a moment.

Darkness swirls before you, and then you’re at sea once again.

You’re standing on the deck of your father’s ship. The red rose emblem on this sail has been shredded by enemy cannonfire, as has the mizzenmast. The Pirate King stands before you, younger than you had ever expected, a young boy almost your age. He points the musket at your father, and for a moment, fear runs through you.

“Please, spare me and my men.” Your father begs and anger fills you at how he, the commander of one of the best privateer fleets in the Royal Navy, is bowing to a mere pirate. But the young pirate simply chuckles, loading the musket in his hand.

“Why should I?”

“I can offer you a trade.” Your father offers, almost desperately, and you see the pirate’s eyebrow raise. He pauses in raising the musket.

“What can you give me that I can’t take for myself?”

“A navigator.” Your father declares, and your heart sinks in your chest. “If I give you my navigator, let me and my crew go.”

The pirate’s eye narrows and he adjusts his eye patch. “Is your navigator not one of your crew?”

“No.” Your father says, with so much surety. He’s giving you away to a band of merciless pirates, who might enslave you, torture you, even kill you. Fear shoots through you.

“Father-”

“Shut up, boy!” Your father snaps at you and you can only fall silent, the Pirate King turns to look at you appraisingly with a single green eye. He contemplates the deal for a short moment.

“Throw in your navigational maps and we’ll make it a deal. If you refuse, I can always let Wooyoung play target practice with you. I assure you he’s itching for something fun to do.”

Your father’s eyes darken, but he can’t refuse the offer.

“Fine.” He spits, shoving you over roughly. You lose your balance, but the captain catches you.

These aren’t yours. There are Yeosang’s memories.

Then the noises and shapes flash past your eyes too fast for you to make out anything anymore, and you feel your own heartbeat starting to slow as Yeosang’s becomes more steady. You’re so tired, all you want to do is close your eyes and rest…

The door opens.

“Captain, I was thinking we could try to- What in the world are you doing!?”

San’s scream is hazy, as if you’re deep in sleep already, but you can hear the frantic desperation and horror in his voice once he realises what you’re doing. You hear the sound of something being knocked over in the background, but you’re too tired to care. Then something thick and hard shoves you hard to the side, off the chair, and you don’t have the energy to move. You merely topple off the chair, crumpling to the ground like a rag doll.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae!” This is Wooyoung’s voice, you register sleepily. The shackles on his wrists dig into your back as he supports you against him, just like the time you got shot. You’d never tell him this, but getting shot in the ankle was one of the best things that ever happened to you.

Ah, you’d wanted to ask him why he wore the shackles, but you suppose you’ll never get the chance now. Your tongue feels too heavy to move but you force it to anyway, desperately needing to ask one last question before you can go in peace.

“Is Yeosang okay?”

You see his mouth move before you, eyes wide with terror and worry, but you can’t hear him. The purple in his hair is starting to return, peeking through the henna he dyed his hair with. For a moment, you think that may be your favourite colour in the whole world.

“Stay… Please… Don’t… You need… Stay awake…!” His words fade in and out. Something wet and warm falls on your cheeks, but you don’t know what it is. Is he still angry with you? You need to apologize to him, then you won’t bother him anymore.

“Sorry for lying… Love you, Wooyoung…” You murmur sleepily, and every muscle under you stiffens in shock.

“Chin Hae-” He begins to say, but then your eyes close. It’s warm here. You could just stay this way forever. The world around you finally fades into nothingness.

And then everything turns white.

The roar of the ocean fills your ears.

You are sitting at a beach. The same beach you see every time you close your eyes. The beach you reach every time you try so hard to gain your memories.

You’re here once again.

Your feet dangle in the cool water as dark brown runs with every lap of the tide, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the sand as you feel each and every grain beneath your rough, slightly deformed fingertips. It’s late at night, the stars have come out, a sprinkling of diamonds in the inky black sky. You stare at the necklace around your neck, the tiny clear cut crystal taunting you with its contents.

He’s coming.

You feel him before you see him, his footsteps sending vibrations through the fine grains of sand as he moves towards you.

“I didn’t expect you to see me off, ******.”

His name is in a language you can’t speak any longer, not with this tongue. He smiles fondly at you, his eyes twinkling like stars in the sky.

“You won’t tell them?” He asks, but he already knows what you will say.

“They won’t understand.” You answer, gazing at the sea with a look so fond and yet so sad. His smile becomes a little wistful as he gazes at where he can’t reach.

“They’ll try to stop you.”

Your smile matches his exactly, eerily identical. “I know.”

“I wanted to do it for you.”

The way he says it makes you know it’s so much more than just a simple action, more than just a parting gift. You look at him, and an aeon of understanding passes between you from your shared gazes alone. A smile curves at your mouth.

“Alright.” You breathe into the night air.

His face is nothing but a foggy memory, browns and greens swirl where his features should be. But his eyes. His eyes glow such a unique shade of green, twin pools of liquid viridescent emeralds, one that nothing and no one else in this world can replicate. You love him so much, more than the human tongue could ever describe, the opposing force to everything you are.

Your other half.

How could you ever forget him?

In his hand, he raises a dagger and presses the tip against your chest.

You press your face into his neck, a sad smile on farewell on your lips, his other arm embracing your body, pulling you tight against him. You’re leaving your other half behind, your very soul screams, but its call is too strong for you to resist.

“I wish you all the luck in the world.” He says softly, his voice caressing your ear more tenderly than any lover’s embrace. You nod, burying your face in his chest, seeking his comfort.

“I’m scared.”

“I love you more than anything else, ****.” He whispers intimately into your ear, his voice warm and strong as it has always been for as long as you’ve existed. His thumb brushes against the crystal on your necklace, burning and etching words into the cold silver. 

When he pulls away for a moment to look deeply into your eyes, you feel a single tear fall down your cold cheek for the first time, tracing a dark line in the brown of the clay.

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The blade sinks into your chest.


	26. Vial

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Dreams flash through your mind, juxtaposed with reality and hallucinations. You can no longer tell what is true or not, simply choosing to accept them all as you continue falling endlessly into nothingness.

You sit on a rock in a small cove. Men and women clamour around you in the water, tails flickering in beautiful jewel tones as they eagerly offer you all sorts of precious gifts, mother of pearl, a beautiful bouquet of colourful anemone, a silvered shell. You laugh and accept them, your tail shimmering with silver scales under the sun.

You feel a hand holding yours, cool metal brushing your soft skin. A pair of lips, soft and warm, brushes against your temple.

“Wake up soon, alright?”

Storms rage all around you. The sea heaves with massive, turbulent waves, the water grey with froth and lightning flashes. You scream with rage, despair, absolute loneliness and the seas respond, swirling around you as if they’re alive with fury.

There’s someone next to you. He’s reading to you in a chair at your bedside, a book about essential oils distilled from natural plants.

“And the clary sage oil is colourless, with a nutty smell. People say its effects feel euphoric, you know, do you think it’s true?”

You’re at the beach of a small island, sitting in the sand. The blue sea stretches on for miles, not another ship in sight. A young boy smiles and asks for your name. You don’t have one, but you tell him what you are. He can’t repeat the word to you with his tongue.

“Please, be okay. Don’t go without letting me thank you.” Someone sobs, wetness soaking into your shoulder. Another person reassures him quietly, his voice a little more gruff and rough around the edges, but still soft.

A man with green hair, San, you think his name with, dances around the ship wearing nothing but two starfish and a skirt of seaweed.

Okay, that’s definitely just a nightmare.

Someone’s singing. His voice is beautiful, striking high notes with ease and pulling you into the melody of the song. The notes wrap around you like a lullaby.

You’re in a prison cell, the place dank and dirty. In your hands, you hold the cut crystal, running your fingers along the words inscribed into it until you find the catch that separates the chain from the gem. The crystal reveals itself to be a tiny vial, containing a mixture inside that sparkles like liquid diamonds. You close your eyes one last time, remembering the little boy’s face, and swallow the contents whole.

“Please wake up.” Someone whispers to you. He holds your hands against his forehead as he pleads with you, and your fingers brush cloth. “Please, Chin Hae, wake up.”

Chin Hae.

Is that your name?

No, it’s not. I don’t have a name. But I am ****.

Chin Hae?

Hurry and wake up, Ch*n H**.

Why are you calling me that? My name isn’t C*** H**.

Hurry up, hurry up, ****.

Your eyes fly open.

You’re in a bed, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, you stay like that, suddenly uncomprehending of who you are or what you are. Every limb feels heavy, as if you haven’t moved them in months, and when you finally muster the strength to turn your head sideways, there’s a head of green hair there.

You scream.

“Wassgoingon?” The head of green hair mumbles, lifting his head to look for the source of the commotion. His eyes are bleary, tired, until they meet yours, then he freezes in shock.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

A word forms on your lips instinctively. “M…” Your voice is rough and scratchy from disuse. “Master?”

The man continues staring at you in shock for another few seconds. Then his eyes widen and he finally lets out a massive scream.

“What’s going on?” A young man with dark hair bursts into the room with a club over his shoulder, looking around for the source of the green haired man’s discomfort. When his eyes fall on you, they widen almost comically.

The club drops to the ground.

“Jongho-hyung?” You ask, and suddenly memories come flooding back to you, sitting in the square with a cream puff in front of you, entering a fortune teller’s booth together. The maknae simply keeps staring at you, before he finally reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Ow!” You shout in pain and bat his hand away, but it’s like trying to move a ship by blowing at its sails. “That hurts!”

His hand falls limply to the side, mouth hanging open in shock. “I’m not dreaming.” He turns to San, who still hasn’t moved from his seat, jaw dragging along the floor. “You’re not dreaming.”

San nods confirmation, just as shocked. You frown. Did you turn into a ghost or something?

Then Jongho tears out of the sickbay before you can ask his what the commotion is, and you can hear him screaming outside. “Everyone! Chin Hae is awake!”

You blink owlishly at them in confusion. Honestly, you just woke up. There’s nothing special about it.

San catches you in a crushing hug, so tight you can feel every rib creaking, but you simply put your arms around him. You’re stunned for a moment, but raise a hand to stroke his back to comfort him.

You feel him sob against you.

“Thank you. Thank you for being alive.” He wails into your sleeve, and your shoulder is damp with his tears. You can barely bring yourself to ask him why he’s crying, confused to as why everyone seems to be overly excited about you waking up. Then it comes back to you.

The whipping.

Captain.

Betrayal.

Wooyoung.

The gunshots.

Blood.

Yeosang.

You force yourself into a sitting position as fast as you can, glancing around the room desperately. It’s empty, except for you. Your heart sinks.

Yeosang isn’t there.

“What happened to Yeosang-hyung?” You demand, turning to your master. “Oh god, is he dead? Did I fail? Did he-”

San opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off from answering you when someone bursts in through the door of the sickbay, panting hard and hunched over on his knees. When he finally does catch his breath, he looks up, and then he sees you.

It’s Yeosang.

It’s Yeosang, still looking a little pale and ashen and weak. It’s Yeosang, who looks like he hasn’t slept in days. But it’s Yeosang, who’s blessedly and wonderfully alive, and that’s all the matters to you.

“Yeosang-hyung-”

He takes three steps to cross the room and wraps his arms around you, delicately and gently, as if he’s afraid you might dissolve into nothingness if he touches you too hard. San moves away so Yeosang can take his place, and the navigator stares at you in wonderment. You turn a little red in embarrassment.

“You’re alive.” He says, still stunned. You nod in reply, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not a ghost.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m not dreaming?”

The way he says the last question, as if he’s so sure that you’re nothing but a figment of his imagination, how he doesn’t dare to trust what he sees in case it’s all a lie breaks your heart. You grip his hand earnestly, warm blood flowing under yours.

“You’re not.”

Then Yeosang is cradling you to him tightly, silent tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again, you dumbass.”

A laugh pulls at your lips. Yeosang is swearing, and maybe that’s a bigger miracle than you actually coming back.

“I won’t if you don’t save me the next time.”

Yeosang pulls away from you a little, just to look at you, sniffing as he wipes his eyes with the hem of his sleeve. “I can’t do that.”

“We’ll have a rotation.” You tell him, as you help him dab dry the tears, an amused smile on your face. “I’ll sacrifice myself for you on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and weekends. You can have the others.”

Yeosang hiccups a little through his smile and tears. “No fair, you get so many more days than I do…”

The two of you sit in silence, both of you having gone through the same trial together has forged a bond between the two of you no one else has. Yeosang is smiling so brightly, like a small sun, and you can’t help but laugh at how happy he looks.

Then San clears his throat. “Yeosangie, she needs to change.”

Yeosang glances down at you, only to realise that you’re wearing a thin white shirt over your bindings and nothing else. His face turns cherry red and he leaps away from you, scrambling to avert his eyes with his hands and immediately knocks his nose into the door frame.

“I’ll be going now!” He squeaks, and you laugh at how sweet he is. He glances back at you one last time, shyly peeking through his fingers as a real, genuine smile blooms across his face. “I’m really, really happy, Chin Hae.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I know.”

With one last smile, the navigator exits the room, leaving you and San in silence.

Your master stares at you for a long moment. Then he opens his mouth to speak.

“That should have killed you.”

You had known that the moment you’d started the link between you and him. What you were intending to do, what you were trying to get back, and the price you’d have to pay. You had known all of this, and you’d still gone ahead with it anyway.

“I know.”

He fixes you with a stern look, as if you’ve just made a mistake in your healing theory or you’ve done a bandage wrong. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve seen anyone do, and I live with Wooyoung and Yunho.”

A snort forces its way out of your mouth.

“But you did it anyway, and you’re still here.” San smiles gently, his strict facade cracking. He looks so relieved, as if he’s been carrying this weight on his shoulders ever since you attempted the healing. Then something strikes you.

“How long have I been out?”

“About a week or so.” Your master replies as he places a bundle of clothes on the bed. Your eyes fly open in shock. Exactly how close did you come to completely draining yourself that day?

Your master jabs a finger at you.

“I should expel you as my student.” Fear wells up in you for a moment at the thought, but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Get dressed, apprentice.”

With that, he leaves the room.

You change your clothes slowly, your muscles sore and limbs stiff. As you take off your shirt, your fingers brush the silver chain of your necklace.

The words inscribed on it leave your lips.

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

Suddenly, excitement wells in you as you fumble with the necklace, brushing your fingers across the silver, trying to find the hidden clasp. And as though it knows you are looking for it, you find it faster than you thought you would, and there’s a small clicking sound.

The tiny crystal vial falls to the bed.

I want a name, you hear a voice whisper around you, carried on the wind as it swirls around you and fades.

Your mouth falls open.

Because the voice was yours.


	27. Forgiven

You’ve learned that Hongjoong’s determination knows no bounds.

Because a week after that terrible little fiasco, he and Yeosang have gotten straight into planning how to slip into Nassau once again.

“Are you serious?” You had asked them, leaning over the map that they’re studying as you brought their dinner to them, Seonghwa’s masterpiece, beef stew. Hongjoong takes the bowl from you gratefully and starts to shovel the food down his throat, never once looking away from his map.

It’s a map of Nassau Island, with several navigational notes to it that you don’t understand, talking about tides, depth of the ocean and what not. Yeosang is pointing out a patch of map off the eastern coast of Nassau that is painted a darker blue than the rest.

“We could drop anchor here.” Yeosang says, gesturing to it. “And have two people take a rowboat out to the beach that Chin Hae and Wooyoung swam to the last time. They could retrace their steps from there.”

Captain nods as he studies the map intently, but his brow is furrowed. “I worry about the tide, though. It should be coming in, but anything could change.”

Yeosang shrugs, taking his meal from you with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chin Hae. We can’t really do anything about the tide, since nature itself controls it as it will, but that’s a risk Seonghwa will have to take.”

Hongjoong nods once. “It’s final. This is what we’re going to do..” The navigator gets up, rolling the maps and tidal charts up, before giving you a quick smile. “I’ll go over the plan with Seonghwa, then. See you, Chin Hae!”

His fingers grasp yours as he leaves. Ever since the two of you had brushed death hand in hand, you find his fingers have instinctively begun seeking yours. It’s cute, the two of you are almost like twins now, two people cut from the same cloth.

The door swings shut behind you, and then you and Captain are the only two people left in the cabin since the time the crew discovered you are a woman.

Your captain looks at you for a moment as he unconsciously flexes the fingers of his right hand, the one he had crushed after San had told him of Yeosang’s condition.

It occurs to you that since waking up, you haven’t apologised to him yet.

You muster up all the courage you have in you, bowing before your captain deeply.

“I’m sorry, captain.”

Hongjoong must know what you’re apologising about, because his face stiffens a little. Then it relaxes, ever so slightly as he reclines in his chair, San having healed the damage done to his back during the week you were unconscious.

He opens his mouth to speak.

“I don’t accept your apology.”

Your heart stops in your chest. He doesn’t… accept your apology? You lift your head just a little to stare at him, and he gazes back it you, green eye firm and unyielding. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle, a little sad, a little hurt.

“I need to know why you lied to me, lied to all of us. I could have understood if you’d told us you were hiding the truth from us because you were afraid that we would leave you behind if we found out about your identity, but after you became part of our crew, there is no excuse, Chin Hae.”

All sorts of emotions swirl in you, the most prominent one guilt. You’ve hurt your captain, lied to the crew, and now you need to give them an explanation, except that you have none that makes sense.

“I…” You begin hesitantly, fingers fiddling with the hairpin at your belt. Its touch is cool and comforting, even if the man who gave it to you hasn’t said a word to you since you woke up. “I was afraid at first. Afraid that if you found out who I was, you’d leave me behind. But as I started to grow closer to all of you…”

The words choke in your throat.

Hongjoong’s expression is soft as he urges you to continue. “Go on.” The dam in you breaks, tears slipping past your eyes as the feelings that you’ve kept in so long spills out of you.

“I didn’t know how you’d react! I saw how all of you trusted me as one of your own and I was so afraid what you’d do if I told you I had been lying to you the whole time! I didn’t want you to be hurt, I didn’t want you to hate me! I just wanted to keep being Chin Hae, your crewmate! And now, everything has changed!” A sob leaves you and your eyes squeeze tight, unable to look your captain in the eye. You don’t want to see the look on his face as he tells you that this is a stupid reason, that you should have just come clean at the start.

But he doesn’t.

There is silence for a moment, then the scraping sound of a chair behind pulled out. You hear soft footsteps on the cabin floor approaching you, and for a moment, you’re actually afraid that your captain might hit you.

Instead, two warm hands come to rest gently on your shoulders.

“What has changed?” He asks softly. You look up in shock to see your captain’s faces mere inches from yours, so close that you can count the stitches on his eye patch. You’ve always wondered why your captain needs an eye patch, just like how you’ve questioned why Wooyoung always wear shirts with longs sleeves even on the hottest of days and why he wears shackles around his wrists like a slave. But this isn’t the time for those questions.

“I don’t understand-”

“Nothing has changed.” Your captain tells you firmly, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “You are Choi Chin Hae, you are and have always been since the day I gave you that name. You are still part of the Treasure, part of my crew, one of my family. Even if you are a woman, a clay one, instead of a man of flesh, neither of those things change for me.”

Warm tears run down your eyes. You finally have something you had been searching for your whole life, a family who loved you like no other.

“Why I wish you had told us earlier… is because we could have protected you better, made your life easier on this ship instead of having you live a lie.” Hongjoong says honestly, his hands are gentle as he squeezes your shoulders. Something in his voice cracks. “I regret, with every fibre of my being, being unable to protect you from that commander back in Nassau.”

You don’t understand your captain. He was getting whipped within an inch of his life because of you, and the thing that weighed most heavily on his mind was being unable to protect you?

“I’m… sorry, captain.” You manage to stutter, still utterly in shock. But your captain shakes his head, his green eye staring at you meaningfully.

“I believe that apology is better saved for someone else, Chin Hae.”

You immediately know who he’s speaking about. Your fingers touch the silver sea flower wrought into the head of the hairpin.

“I will.” You tell your captain, determined to make amends. Even if he doesn’t forgive you for betraying him, you still owe him an apology, at the very least. “But I’m still sorry for causing you all this burden, captain.”

Hongjoong laughs, stepping back as his hands fall from your shoulders.

“Didn’t you hear what I said to Seonghwa the last time? I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”

The tears that slip from your eyes, this time, are ones of happiness.

“Yes, captain.” You manage choke out, and before you’re overcome with emotion, you move for the door, intent on finding the head gunner. But when you’re out of the cabin, stepping onto the main deck, a call from your captain makes you whirl back to look at him.

“Chin Hae?”

You’re a little confused by what he wants to say. He seems to be pondering something, rolling the thought around in his mind. You prompt him, curious about why he seems to be so hesitant.

“Captain?”

Finally, he smiles, and your breath catches in your throat from how it highlights every part of his face even in the gloom of his cabin.

“Call me Hongjoong.”

And with that, the door closes in your face with a soft click.

A happy laugh leaves through your tears. The words seem almost instinctive to you now, more free on your tongue than they have ever been. Before, you had been part of the crew, but now, you are part of the family.

“Of course… captain.”

A light feeling blossoming in your heart, you wipe the tears from your eyes and look up to the sky with a smile.

And you see a dark shape in the rigging, swaying back and forth with the wind, looking utterly alone.

Concern wells in your chest. San had told you that Wooyoung had been been remaining in the rigging for the past week you had been unconscious, only visiting your bedside once. During that time, he had refused his meals, snapped at everyone who had attempted to talk to him and had literally drunk himself half to death. In fact, he probably would have, San had told you grimly, if he hadn’t gotten into a massive fist fight with Jongho.

The maknae had tied a rope around Wooyoung’s waist, picked him up and thrown him into the sea to sober off. After that, the gunner had stopped downing alcohol like he was trying to drown himself in it, but it evidently wasn’t enough to stop him from separating himself from everyone like he had the plague.

Worse of all, Yunho had confided in you, eyes worried, that Wooyoung seemed to be regressing back into the behaviour he had exhibited when he had first come to the ship. He had ignored Hongjoong’s orders, which simply doesn’t happen on this ship, and had even refused to speak to Yunho or Yeosang.

Lonely, afraid and terrified of interacting with anyone around him.

You need to apologise.

Crossing the main deck, you make your way to the foremast, climbing up to the forecastle deck. The dark shape above you continues swaying precariously in the ropes above, uncaring of anything below it.

You exhale deeply, trying to muster up the courage to speak.

“Wooyoung!”

The dark shape jerks, almost tumbling out of the rigging, to your horror. But his hand flashes out instinctively from years in the ropes, gripping tight onto the sheets, and he rights himself, glancing down.

His eyes meet yours for a second, and in that moment, your heart shatters.

You honestly don’t know what you were expecting when you met him face to face again. You remembered, more than anything else, that his face had been the last thing you’d seen when you slipped into your tangle with death itself, streaked with tears and grief. You couldn’t exactly recall what he’d said or you’d said, but you had seen his face in your dreams more times than you could count.

But in none of them had he looked like this.

The person staring back at you looks like a man haunted, as if he’s just surfaced from a terrifying nightmare, trapped in the shadows of his own mind, desperately wondering if he’s still merely wandering about in the darkness. His normally immaculate purple hair is mussed, as if he hasn’t bothered with it for weeks, and his mouth hangs open in shock.

Then he smooths it over the best he can, but you can see the wounded, terrified look in his eyes right before it slips away behind his mask. Hiding his true self in front of your eyes.

“I’m coming up.” You call, and you don’t think you’ve seen him more panicked your entire life.

His eyes fly wide in horror and he opens his mouth to protest, but then immediately shuts it before a word can escape him, much to your confusion. You place your hands on the rope, the thick lengths twisting under your grasp as you begin to haul yourself up.

It’s been a long time since you’ve touched the ropes, but you’re sure it’ll come back to you soon. You’re just not sure whether it’ll come back fast enough to catch Wooyoung, who’s scurrying away from you up the mast like a terrified monkey. Honestly, your limbs are still weak from your long bedrest and you doubt that you can catch the man who’s practically lived in the ropes for half his life, but you need to at least make an effort for all the pain you’ve put him through.

“Wooyoung, wait!” You shout, chasing him up as fast as you can. He doesn’t look back once, scrambling as fast as he can to avoid you at all costs. But there’s only one way he can go, and that is up. Eventually, he reaches the top of the mast, and there’s nowhere else for him to go. His eyes widen as he realises this and he glances at your approaching figure like it’s the devil itself come for him.

Then his eyes flicker to the side and you gape, a swear starting to emerge from your mouth. “Wooyoung, no-”

But it’s too late. He’s already jumped across the rigging, catching onto the ropes of the main mast and hiding from your sight behind the wooden pillar.

“Are you serious, Wooyoung?” You grumble, grabbing a rope from the side and swinging across to him. The wind and warmth of the sun caresses your face as you grab onto the ropes of the main mast, barely catching a glimpse of his eyes as he leaps to the mizzenmast.

Honestly, if you follow him again, he’s probably just going to jump into the ocean to avoid you and you’ll never get to apologise to him. Then a dumb, reckless plan pops into your mind and you start climbing higher and higher, as fast as you can.

“Do you trust me?” Wooyoung had asked you once.

You had replied with a joking ‘not at all’, but deep in you, the words still stayed the same, no matter what had happened between the two of you.

With my life.

“Wooyoung!” You call, and from your time together in the rigging, learning about the way each other thinks, moves, breathes, he can sense something in the air. One eye peeks around the wood of the mast, only to widen in horror as he sees you stand at the highest yardarm, arms outstretched, only holding on to a single length of rope in hand.

It’s a trick that the two of you had developed, before the mission, before Nassau, before any of this had happened. It had just been the two of you, you resting against him in the crow’s nest, your intertwined hands in his coat pocket for warmth as you had watched the sun vanish behind the sea and the stars twinkle to life in the night sky.

You want, for a moment so desperately it hurts, to return to that time.

“No, don’t do it-” You see him begin to shout in raging alarm and panic, but you simply grin at him, wild and breathless from the sheer stupidity and recklessness of what you’re about to do. You’ve never done it from this high before, but you place your faith in Wooyoung, closing your eyes.

“Catch me.”

With that, you jump.

Wind rushes past you for a second as you seems to hang in free fall, but you’re not the least bit scared like you should be. In a single breath, something warm slams into your body, sending you flying backwards. Strong arms wrap around you, one around your waist and the other catches the rigging behind you. Your entire body jerks as you come to an abrupt stop, tangled in the ropes and in Wooyoung’s arms.

His body is warm against yours, pressing you to him. For a moment, relief sags in you. 

Your eyes fly open, only to see Wooyoung’s eyes staring straight into yours, pupils still dilated from fear.

Then his mouth opens, and from incensed look on his face, you’re about to get a tongue lashing.

“What were you thinking-” He rants, furious at your actions. But you aren’t paying attention to his scolding, instead, your eyes flicker over the sickly, bloodless pallor of his face, the way his jawline looks too sharp from lack of proper eating, skin stretched over his bones, how gaunt he looks with sunken cheeks. There’s a healing bruise on his cheekbone, still fresh, put there presumably by Jongho.

Your heart breaks clean in half when you study the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, as if he hasn’t slept the entire week, how the white colouring of his skin makes them look like dark bruises.

“And do you know how dangerous that little stunt was? What would you have done if I hadn’t gotten to you in time? I can’t believe-” His words are cut off in a breathless gasp as your hands reach up to cradle his face gentle, thumbs brushing the soft skin under his eyes. He stares at you with wide eyes, terrified but so desperately unwilling to pull away from your touch, a war raging in his heart.

“You haven’t been sleeping well?” You murmur softly, tracing his cheeks and for a second, in a moment of weakness, he gives into your warmth, pressing his face into your hand. For a while, everything is right again with you and him, two people seeking comfort in each other.

That’s what the two of you have always been, a refuge for the other.

Then he catches himself and yanks himself from you, clapping one hand over his mouth, turning away so that you can no longer see his face.

“Go.” You hear him choke out, the words muffled by his hand as he sits down on the yardarm, unwilling to look at you in the eye. But you’ve had enough.

“Stop running from me, Jung Wooyoung!”

He seizes up at his full name. Nobody on board this ship calls him that, aware that his family name isn’t a real one. It’s something Hongjoong gifted him with when he had become one of the crew, a precious treasure of incomparable worth to him. But when you use it, he knows you understand the weight of it.

Having a name, when before you had none.

You see him shake his head and bury his face in his hands, knees curled up to himself. He doesn’t want to speak.

Crossing over to him, you crouch before his form. Initially, you had thought he was angry at you and merely didn’t want to talk to you out of fury at being lied to like that, but now you feel like it runs so much deeper than that.

“Wooyoung, talk to me, please.”

He shakes his head again, a little more frantic this time. You hear a sob torn from his chest and the sound of pain, anguish, agony makes yours ache in return.

“I’m begging you, Wooyoung. Please. Please talk to me.”

He remains completely still apart from the silent cries you can hear trapped in his chest. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before, like a child who wants nothing more than to run to his parents for comfort, but doesn’t have any.

Someone who doesn’t know how to be told that it’s all going to be okay.

You rack your brains furiously for what happened to make him like this. Back and back and back, to that moment in the captain’s room, to when Wooyoung looked at you with eyes burning with ice cold fury. You see his lips move, and then you remember what he had said to you.

I wish… I wish you had died that first battle after Raguza… I wish you had never come to this ship.

“I didn’t mean it…” You hear Wooyoung’s soft whimpers as his body is wracked with the force of his sobs. Your heart breaks as you finally realise why he’s afraid of speaking to you any longer, why he won’t look at you in the eye. “I never wanted for any of that to happen… I never wanted for you to get hurt like that…”

A tear escapes you, a single drop rolling down your cheek.

He blames himself for what you had done.

Then you move forward, arms wrapping around him. His entire body stiffens in shock at your touch and he tries to shy away, but you cling to him, unwilling to let him go this time. Your chin rests on his shoulder, so close to him you can hear his heartbeat in your ears.

“I forgive you, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Don’t-” He chokes past tears, and another shudder runs through his entire body. “Don’t forgive me.”

You smile at him fondly even if you know he can’t see it. “Then you forgive me for lying to you.”

“I don’t blame you for that.” He sniffs, wiping his eyes but face still hidden in his arms. “You had every reason not to tell me. I had no right to say anything like that to you.”

“If you don’t let me forgive you, Wooyoung, I’m going to jump off the mast right this second.” You tell him, pulling away. Wooyoung’s hands rush to grab your wrists, pulling you tight to him, his chains jingling in your ears.

“Forgive me, forgive me-” He chokes out, wheezing from the heart attack he has almost gotten. You laugh, curling yourself into his chest where you’ve always sat before as you watch the sun begin to set before your eyes, turning the sky golden and blue.

This time, you take his hand in yours and place it in your pocket.

“I do.”


	28. Lies

“So… can I just say this sounds like a terrible plan?” Wooyoung asks as he glances at his captain, suiting up in his mission clothes once more. Hongjoong throws him a dirty look.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better plan.” Captain snaps, but there’s no hostility in his tone. Instead, he sounds almost as nervous as you and Wooyoung are, turning to Seonghwa urgently. “Do you really want to do this, Seonghwa?”

The cook is dressed in mission attire as well, looking more out of place than you do in a black shirt and pants, a matching scarf hanging around his neck. When his captain addresses him, he nods, his fingers drumming furiously at his thighs, deep in thought.

He’s finally going to confront his parents’ murderer.

As the ones who know the town better than anyone else on board (except Seonghwa), you and Wooyoung will be accompanying Seonghwa on this little mission, assisting him by leading him to Lucio Bartholomew. The plan once you reach town is simple, trace the same way you took the last time and get to Lucio’s room, somehow dodging every guard along the way.

But nerves edge at you.

“What if they increase the guard because of us the last time?” You ask a little nervously, turning to Yeosang. The navigator shrugs as he helps you secure the grappling rope around your waist.

“Fight them off and run like hell. We’ve got a surplus of smoke bombs and interesting surprises this time, so Wooyoung will use them if need be.”

You turn to the head gunner in surprise. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so heavily armed, pistols and muskets dangling from his body. There’s even a double barreled shotgun hanging from his back, the menacing weapon looks like it could do some pretty serious damage.

From his shoulder dangles a bag full of the several ‘fun’ surprises that Yeosang had been working on, packed to the brim.

“I hope it won’t come to that.” You mumble under your breath, but Wooyoung simply chuckles, waving it off with a grin that you’ve missed so much.

“Aww, where’s the fun in that?” He laughs and you give him a flat look, completely unamused.

“Not getting shot in the foot would be a good start.”

There’s a knock on the door of the cabin, and it opens a crack to let Mingi’s head pop in to look at the five of you inside. “The moon’s hidden behind the clouds.” He tells you, face grim.

You exchange glances with each other and begin to rise to your feet. Time for you to go, you suppose.

All of you step outside onto the main deck, your soft soled boots barely making any noise against the wooden floorboards. Another invention you had to credit to Yeosang, who had stayed up all night trying to find ways to ensure the three of you wouldn’t be caught up in another terrible situation.

There’s a wooden rowing boat hanging over the port side of the ship, ready to be lowered into the water. The sea beneath you is calm, like a floor of glass, tiny ripples disrupting its otherwise smooth surface. You can see the town less than a mile away, the island of Nassau emitting a soft glow into the night.

“Well then, let’s be off.” Wooyoung stretches as he gets ready to board the boat. You get in after him, the little rowing boat rocking dangerously under your feet and you nearly fall right over the side. Wooyoung barely manages to catch you by the arm, pulling you back into the boat. “Wouldn’t want you to be taking a swim so soon.”

You want to smack the grin off his face.

Seonghwa steps into the boat with a lot more grace than you had, sitting down in front of you. Mingi and Hongjoong stand at the bulwarks, eyes reflecting the light of the torches like mirrors.

“Good luck.” Hongjoong says, and then Jongho and Yunho both grab a rope each, helping to lower the boat into the water. Nausea wells up in you and groan, this is a terrible start to the mission. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both pick up their oars, and once the boat is floating on the surface of the sea, they begin to paddle for shore.

The journey is more or less silent, aside from the splashing of water from the oars. The night is still, and after half an hour or so of hard paddling, the boat runs aground onto dry sand.

The three of you leap out of the boat, quickly hiding it in a thick clump of ferns in case anyone decides to wander along. Wooyoung claps you on the shoulder cheerily as the three of you make your way through the small grove of trees you had passed through the last time, Wooyoung this time carefully making sure to glance around at his surroundings so as to avoid another head/branch breaking incident.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” He asks you with a smile and you snort, batting his hand away.

“Yeah… As if I could forget how you stupidly walked into a branch.”

Wooyoung sniffs delicately, assuming the pompous air of a rich, noble lady. “I have done no such thing.” You fight to keep the snort from escaping you.

Seonghwa trails behind the two of you in silence and both of you exchange subtle looks. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at you.

Should we talk to him?

You frown at him, jerking your head slightly at the man behind you.

Shouldn’t you know? You’ve been his friend for longer.

Wooyoung puffs out his cheeks.

Yeah, but I’m not exactly the most sensitive person, you know?

“Seonghwa-hyung?” You turn around to look at the cook, who’s momentarily jerked out of his little reverie as he looks at you. There’s a concerned look on your face. “Are you alright?”

The taller man manages to give you a weak smile even as he shakes his head truthfully. “I really just want to meet this man and ask him why he chose to do this to my parents… Honestly, I wish I were angry with him… but all I feel right now is confusion, and I don’t know why.”

You and Wooyoung glance at each other.

“You must be just like Yeosangie.” Wooyoung shakes his head as if in disappointment, but there’s a wistful smile on his face. “Both of you are too pure for this world, seriously.”

“I…” Seonghwa interjects softly and the two of you listen intently. “I lived my whole life with the dream of returning to Nassau and taking revenge on the man who took my family from me. I thought it’d bring me the peace I needed so much. But now that it’s right in front of my eyes, I can’t help but feel like I need to know why my parents were killed, more than taking revenge.”

He smiles weakly at the two of you.

“Sorry. I’m not being very eloquent, am I?”

“No problem, that’s Yeosang and Hongjoong-hyung’s job.”The gunner waves his apology away as the three of you approach the treeline. You step forward to scope out the place, pulling the scarf over your nose as you check for any guards or the like. “I think I can understand. We’ll respect your decisions, Seonghwa-hyung.”

You turn back to them. “All clear. But we should stay wary, they might still on high alert. It’s only been a week, after all.”

Quietly, the three of you slip out of the shadows and into the town.

This time, the tension in the air is so high no one dares make a sound. Even though the last time you and Wooyoung were simply joking around to ease your nerves, it’s different now. This may be Seonghwa’s last shot at getting to this Lucio Bartholomew.

You cross your fingers and pray that the gods will find favour with you tonight. Then you feel something warm drip from your nose and you frown, riffling about in your bag for a cloth.

Ever since you’d saved Yeosang from certain death, you had started to get nosebleeds a little more frequently, something that confused both you and San. Your master had told you that he’d never seen such a strange after effect of a healing like this, but then again he had never seen a healing of such a high scale before. Worried, he’d started to track how often you got nosebleeds, but you were sure it was just exhaustion from the healing you had done.

After a while, the bleeding stops, and you shove the cloth back into your bag.

You take the same path as you did a week before, walking past the row of shop houses and ducking into the alleyway behind the bookshop, into the cover of the shadows. This time, Wooyoung listens for guards while you undo the grappling rope around your waist, waiting for your partner’s signal. When he does nod at you, you twirl the hook above your head and toss it into the window as quietly as possible.

The iron hook flies into the window and you tug on it to make sure it’s secure. Wooyoung brushes past you, pulling his scarf over his mouth to hide his face and a black hood to hide his hair. Gripping the rope tight, he scales it quickly, climbing into the room.

There are two jerks on the rope.

Safe.

You climb up the rope after him, proud that you’re able to do this a lot faster than before. When you’re in the room, you help Seonghwa up after, and he joins the three of you in Ludovico Robertt’s room for the first time.

Except Ludovico Robertt is not in his bed.

You frown, glancing around a little apprehensively. “Where’s our dear Ludo?”

“Officials tend to work overtime a lot, don’t worry.” Wooyoung tells you as he secures the rope around his waist. This time, all of you take precaution, drawing loaded muskets from your belts just in case of something unexpected happening. Your other hand rests nervously on the hilt of your cutlass.

Wooyoung opens the door and studies the corridor outside.

The he turns back to you and shakes his head.

No one.

Something rolls about in the pit of your stomach, like a restless sea.

“Wooyoung, I think we should-” You begin to say, but he’s already slipped out of the door, Seonghwa following close behind. You don’t have any choice but to follow the two of them, nervously looking around for any signs of danger.

There are none.

And that scares you more than anything else.

The courtyard is void of guards, the torches flickering in the brackets along the walls show no one is patrolling the corridor. You can feel unease bubbling deep in you.

“Let’s go.” Wooyoung gestures to you and Seonghwa, the three of you make your way across the corridor to Lucio Bartholomew’s room. A cicada chirps and you nearly jump out of your skin, heart racing a million knots an hour as you fight to keep your breathing steady. The gunner fiddles with the latch, opening the door to reveal a dark room behind it, which you slip inside.

Wooyoung closes the door carefully after you as you take the time to adjust to the gloom of the room. When you can finally see more clearly once more, you glance around to scope the room out.

The room is exactly as the last time you had been here. Piles of official work documents are stacked upon the desk, books still well kept on the shelves. Nothing would have suggested that just a week ago, the two of you had been here to cause such a ruckus.

But unease weighs on your mind.

It’s too quiet, too calm, too still. The lack of guards, the empty room of Ludovico Robertt and the seemingly too easy entrance all seem to be pointing you towards something.

By the time you realise it, you’re too late.

The door opens behind you and the three of you whirl around in horror to a see the outline of a man standing there. His face is hidden in shadow, but you can see the smile on his face.

Seonghwa gasps beside you, eyes going wide. His face drains of colour as he stares down the man opposite him, hands trembling with fear or anger, you don’t know.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Park Seonghwa.”

The Treasure’s resident cook looks as if there is a musket pointed straight at him, even though the man’s hands are empty. Wooyoung jerks his gun at who you’re presuming to be Lucio Bartholomew.

“Hands in the air.”

The man complies without resistance, raising his hands. His lack of fear, his complete absence of surprise, all of it is disconcerting. Part of you wishes he would fight back, would call for the guards like he did before, but he does none of those things. Instead, he merely looks at you gently with a smile worn and weathered with time, crow’s feet crinkling at the corner of his eyes.

Seonghwa is staring at the man intently, eyes narrowed in deep thought. Then his mouth falls open, his eyes widening in shock. You frown as you study his face in concern, has he remembered how this man killed his parents? But the words that leave his mouth are not something that you were expecting in the least.

“…Uncle Barty?”

You almost choke on your own tongue in shock. Uncle Barty? Uncle? And from the way Seonghwa says his name, with a tinge of familiarity, the two must have been pretty close at least, or had known each other before.

You’re almost terrified by how calm he is, utterly unruffled by Wooyoung’s gun pointed at his head. Is he planning something? Why are there no guards? Why does Seonghwa know him? Even worse, the man simply smiles at Seonghwa’s stupefied expression.

“Hwaseong.” He says, and from the way Seonghwa goes rigid, the word must mean something from his past. You swallow uncomfortably, pointing your own gun at him, trying to hide the way your eyes are darting about nervously for some sort of danger.

“Where are the guards?” You snap, trying to sound as intimidating as possible, but Ludovico Bartholomew simply shakes his head at you with a kind smile that honestly scares you more than Leon Bastiville’s sneer.

“There are no guards.”

You’re struck dumb for a moment. The Treasure had been caught at the harbour the last week and two of their crew had been found at the officials’ building, but no one had bothered to post additional watch there? From the look on Wooyoung’s face, he doesn’t believe a word of it but chooses to remain silent. It seemed to good to be true. And his next words are even more disconcerting.

“I told them to leave. I was expecting you.”

Unease stirs in you. He was expecting you?

“You… You were one of the restaurant’s patrons. One of mother and father’s friends.” Seonghwa manages to choke out, you and Wooyoung exchange concerned looks at this bit of new information. “You were the one who bought Ha Rin cranberry cream buns from the bakery every time you visited the eatery.”

Bartholomew doesn’t try to explain himself, doesn’t beg for forgiveness, doesn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he simply nods.

“I was.”

You’re horrified. This man, the one who brought a young nine year old girl buns and was friends with Seonghwa’s parents actually had the heart to send them to the gallows in cold blood?

“I remember seeing you at the eatery every morning, talking with mother and father.” The words tumble from Seonghwa’s lips as he continues to stare at the man in shock. “And you… and you helped Hyunjung with his studies, you encouraged him to become a good student.”

The man nods once more. “So I was.”

“And you killed them.” Seonghwa’s voice is nothing more than a hushed whisper now, soft grey eyes unblinking as he stares at the man who ruined his entire life in a single day. “You sent them to their deaths.”

Ludovico Bartholomew nods one last time, this time his head drops a little, as if he feels just a tiny bit of guilt.

“I did.”

The official’s reply leaves you stunned. But Seonghwa looks like he’s seen a ghost of his past, which you suppose in some way he has, the pallor of his face draining of all colour.

“I should kill you right now.” He breathes, raising his own gun to Bartholomew’s forehead. His body is trembling from the emotions rushing through him, but his hand is still on the firearm. “My family deserve their revenge.”

Ludovico smiles again, this time a little sadder, a little more wistful. Then he steps forward, right up to Seonghwa, and presses his forehead against the mouth of the barrel. “You should.”

But he can’t.

Seonghwa’s hands start to tremble violently, as if bearing the weight of his parents’ and siblings’ deaths on his shoulders. It’s too much for him to handle, overwhelming him all at once. He can’t kill the man before him, the one thing that he set out to do, the one thing he needs for closure. Tears stream down his cheeks as he grits his teeth, fingers hovering above the trigger.

You can see the struggle in his eyes.

“I killed your family, you know.” Ludovico whispers softly, as if trying to edge him on. Seonghwa gasps as the man admits it outright, not the least bit of fear or doubt in his voice. Heaving gasps leave his throat as he fights to pull the trigger.

“Hyung? Hyung, are you alright?” Wooyoung asks, eyes narrowed in concern. He won’t interfere, knowing that Seonghwa needs to do this for himself, but he is starting to get worried over his hesitation. Seonghwa shakes his head desperately, barely keeping the gun pointed at Ludovico’s head.

“Why?”

The man in question raises an eyebrow, as if he didn’t hear the question properly. “Excuse me?”

“Why…” Seonghwa swallows his emotion, fighting to speak coherently. “Why did you kill my family?”

“You don’t want to know, Hwaseong.” The man sighs, turning around without paying any heed to the three guns pointed at him. Your heart leaps into your throat as he moves to his desk, opening a thick book of records. Seonghwa closes his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself.

“I want the truth. I thought you… I thought we could trust you… that we were friends.”

“Well…” Ludovico exhales, still hunched over the book. “That’s what I thought too, when I heard the news of the Treasure being back in town. Hwaseong, do you know why your parents were hung?”

Seonghwa flinches visibly at the last word, but nods slowly. “During the announcement… the man in charge of the hanging falsely accused my parents of consorting with pirates.”

“According to the reports of Sir Lucio Bartholomew, the head of the piracy investigation, I find the Park family guilty of consorting with pirates and ****…”

Yes, he remembers. He remembers that fateful day, every word the official had said until those too, had faded into white noise. His innocent parents and siblings who had been hanged at the gallows for no reason at all, dangling at the end of the noose, every last gasp of air they had taken as they slipped further and further from this earth-

“You falsely accused them of consorting with pirates.” Seonghwa’s body is shaking, whether from rage or emotion, you don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling in your chest that just won’t go away. Something is going to happen. “You lied and my entire family was sent to the gallows.”

Ludovico Bartholomew is silent as he stares at Seonghwa, then he speaks.

There is nothing but surety in his voice, and with three simple words that upend Seonghwa’s world in the space of a single breath, does the world come crashing down around you.

“I didn’t lie.”


	29. Truth

“What?”

Time seems to slow, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as your heart pounds frantically, utterly confused. What did he mean by he didn’t lie? Seonghwa’s whole family got hanged on false charges, and he had the gall to deny the truth?

Ludovico Bartholomew’s smile is sad as he answers Seonghwa.

“Your parents were not hung on false charges, Hwaseong.”

If you were shocked, Seonghwa is utterly destroyed. You can see his pupils dilating in shock, almost swallowing the soft grey of his irises. Stumbling backwards until Wooyoung catches him by the arm, he stares at the official, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

“You’re lying. They were the kindest people I’d ever known, the only blade my father had held his whole life was a kitchen knife. Don’t lie to me.”

Trembling, Seonghwa shakes his head desperately and buries his face in Wooyoung’s shoulder, as if doing that will change the truth. But Ludovico Bartholomew does not lie. You can feel the genuine honesty in every word he says down to your very bones, and maybe that is what scares you the most.

“When I visited your parents in the eatery, I had an ulterior motive, you know?” Ludovico says softly, staring at Seonghwa. The cook refuses to look at him, one of Wooyoung’s arms coming up to wrap around Seonghwa protectively as he glares down the official with venomous eyes that you hope are never aimed at you. “I had found out some information about them, so I went to investigate that. Did you know, Seonghwa?”

“Know what?” Seonghwa snaps, still unable to completely believe that Ludovico Bartholomew is telling the truth. The official looks at him seriously.

“Your parents were pirates, Seonghwa.”

The words have the impact of a punch, every wisp of air knocked from his lungs as the statement bounces around in his skull. They seem to have taken Seonghwa’s ability to speak as well, because he simply stares at the man in utter disbelief and shock.

“What?” The words slip past your lips. Lucio smiles at you, a little sadly. He holds a book in front of you, pages slightly yellowed with age. It’s a book of records, you realise, as you lean in to make out the writing on the paper.

Park Seonho and Eun Jung, pirates, to be hanged for theft, instances of piracy and betrayal of the Crown. Wanted for the murder of 57 people, the prominent of which was Levi Bastiville, former Commander of the Royal Navy Red Rose Fleet and his wife, which left their only son an orphan.

Seonghwa’s parents were pirates.

Pirates, who the Royal Navy had every right to execute.

Pirates charged with the murder of a married couple.

Pirates who had caused a young boy to grow up completely alone, devoid of any paternal love.

“You met him, didn’t you?” Ludovico sighs, almost wistfully as he turns to Seonghwa. There’s something mournful in his eyes as he sets the book down. “He was the one who almost arrested all of you.”

Levi Bastiville’s son.

Leon Bastiville.

A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of the man, goosebumps racing over your skin as you felt the gun at your head once more, the way his fingers dug at your throat, the sheer lunacy in his eyes, the sadistic smile on his face as your captain had been whipped half to death in front of him.

And yet, Seonghwa could understand him now.

“He was left alone, completely without extended family. The orphanage took him in, but the other children bullied him for having come from a rich family.” Ludovico tells you quietly, and you can see Wooyoung’s knuckles turn white. “He didn’t have the same sort of support and family you did on board the Treasure and he grew up twisted and sadistic, into the man you saw that day.”

A sob leaves Seonghwa’s throat.

“In fact,” The man continues softly, shaking his head dryly, “he was a boy much like you before the fateful day of the hanging.”

Seonghwa’s parents had destroyed lives, much like Lucio had destroyed Seonghwa’s.

And that itself is like a knife to Seonghwa’s throat.

“I was initially going to ask your parents to sell us information about other privateers as well as to check whether they might still pose a threat to Nassau.” Ludovico continues, his words firm and unyielding. “I didn’t even think about hanging them for a life of crime they had so obviously left behind. But Leon found out, you see. He ran and told the town officials, and in the end your whole family was put to death.”

“It wasn’t you?” Seonghwa manages to ask between restrained sobs, Wooyoung patting him on the back gently. Ludovico shakes his head honestly.

“I was merely the head of investigation.” He answers in return to Seonghwa’s question, and in that moment Seonghwa shatters into pieces.

“No…”

He’s been living a lie this whole time.

“According to the reports of Sir Ludovico Bartholomew, the head of the piracy investigation, I find the Park family guilty of consorting with pirates and ****…”

Seonghwa remembers now.

The memory comes back, as if resurfacing from the bottom of the ocean where it’s lingered the last six years. It returns, clear and unblemished by time, no longer hidden behind his own biases and beliefs.

“…Guilty of consorting with pirates and p*r*cy-”

He had heard it that day.

“…Guilty of p*ra*y…”

He had chosen to forget that one memory.

“…Piracy.”

He had lied to himself.

“So, Park Seonghwa, are you still going to kill me?”

The gun falls from Seonghwa’s fingers and clatters to the ground. Seonghwa lets out a wail so painful it sends chills down your spine, as if there is someone physically torturing him from within.

“Seonghwa-hyung-” You begin to say, but Ludovico begins to speak once more.

“I could give you the name and identity of the man did kill your parents and siblings.” Ludovico says softly, his eyes resting on Seonghwa’s shaking form with sympathy. “But your parents did kill his wife, who was pregnant with their unborn child.”

Horror wells up in your chest and Seonghwa lets out a muffled scream into Wooyoung’s sleeve.

“I only imagine that he wanted them to feel the same pain he did.” Ludovico continues, as if unaware of the agony ripping Seonghwa apart. “I’m not saying that he was right in what he did, but anyone would have understood why. He’s lived with the guilt for the last six years of his life as well. He still hears their voices in his head and hasn’t had a night of sleep since that day.”

You don’t know what is happening anymore. You can only watch as Seonghwa crumbles before you, Wooyoung holding onto him desperately like his only lifeline to reality. But you can see the fog in Seonghwa’s mind clearing slowly as he learns to accept the truth.

“I hate you.” Seonghwa manages to choke out finally, but there’s mixed feelings in his own voice. “I hate you for telling me the truth. But thank you.”

Ludovico smiles gently, and to your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t shy away from it this time. “I’m glad you escaped his wrath. What I can do to make amends is tell you where your family are buried.”

Seonghwa’s eyes go wide. Prisoners who have been hanged are usually just tossed into pits in the ground, not given the luxury of a proper burial.

“Thank you.” Is all Seonghwa manages to say, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Hate, Seonghwa, is the path of the devil. It is tempting, and it will attempt to entice you with all sorts of logical explanations and compelling reasons, ones that boost your ego and raises false heroes.” The official’s eyes are a little wistful as he and Seonghwa meet each other’s gaze evenly for the first time that night. “I wish I had known that before. That there is no prize worth the corruption of your soul. There is no relief in revenge, only more pain and destruction.”

“I understand.”

And he really does, because as much as he wants to hate the man who killed his family, he can’t bring himself to. His parents’ guilt and responsibility weigh themselves on his shoulders, just as much as the hatred towards the man who had murdered his parents had once been.

“So what are you going to do now, hyung?” Wooyoung asks Seonghwa, helping him wipe the tears from his eyes as he shoots Ludovico Bartholomew a look. Even after finding out that Bartholomew isn’t the one directly responsible for the deaths of Seonghwa’s parents, he still looks like he wants to blow the man up anyway for giving his crewmate so much grief.

“I don’t know.” Seonghwa exhales, turning to look at you and Wooyoung. He looks a little lost, a little confused, like a man who’s reached the end of a road and doesn’t know where to go next. “Maybe go to my family’s grave and pay my respects.”

He glances back at the Ludovico, who nods. “They’re buried by the sea, at the little fishing spot you and your family used to go to.”

“Thank you.” This time, his words are full of surety. And for the first time since he’s stepped into the room, his shoulders sag in relief, as if a massive weight has been lifted from him.

Wooyoung holds him by the shoulders, steering him out of the room gently.

You linger for a moment more, your eyes searching the room for a glimpse of the book that had started it all. But it’s not there.

“Are you still looking for something?” Ludovico asks, and you whip around in surprise to see the official still standing there, a distantly sad look of regret on his face as he stares out of the door. Even though he was the one who’d turned Seonghwa’s life upside down, you can’t help but ask.

“Is there something wrong?”

The man snaps out of his little reverie, shaking his head.

“Oh, no… I just wish I could have had more courage.”

Courage?

“I wish I could have told that boy the truth.” Ludovico Bartholomew looks at the doorway, but there’s something like wistfulness in his eyes. You frown at his words. What did he mean by the truth? Didn’t he tell Seonghwa the whole truth already?

“You should go too.” He gestures to the door, but you can’t help staring at him even as you leave.

Then as you shut the door behind you, you hear him speak once more, this time seemingly speaking to the empty room.

“Marie, my love, Janice, my sweet child…” Ludovico Bartholomew murmurs softly, lost in a world that you can’t seem to see. “Please watch over that boy from heaven to atone for my sins.”

The door clicks shut.


	30. Choice

You follow them along the side of the street.

The night is cold and your steps echo in the silence of the town. There’s barely a soul out and about at this time of the dark, and you shiver a little in your thin mission clothes. Even though he’s walking in front of you, he seems to be able to sense something intuitively and turns around to glance at you.

“Cold?”

You blow on your hands in an attempt to warm them up slightly.

“A little.”

Wooyoung ignores your words, taking your hand in his warmer one and puts it in his pocket. You smile at him gratefully but he isn’t looking at you, instead eyeing Seonghwa walking silently in front of tow of you, head bowed in thought as he leads the two of you through the town.

He squeezes the hand nestled in his pocket lightly.

Now should we talk to him?

You take his pinky finger and wave it back and forth.

No. I think we’d better let him absorb what he’s just heard.

The pad of his thumb traces small circles on the inside of your wrist.

But shouldn’t we comfort him or something?

You pinch his finger and a small yelp leaves his mouth.

Let’s not rush him. Give him some time.

You glance up just in time to see Wooyoung puff out his cheeks a little, obviously wanting to comfort his friend but knowing that he needs time to himself as well. In an attempt to reassure him, you intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze a little.

I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Wooyoung gives you a weak smile.

I hope so.

You leave the paved roads of the town behind you, moving into a beach dotted with sparse patches of grass. Your boots crunch a little on sand and it’s hard to keep your footing, but Wooyoung guides you over the dunes with easy grace that makes you almost envious.

The three of you walk in silence along the stretch of beach, the sounds of waves lapping against the beach soothing your soul. You gaze out to the ocean, there’s something beautiful about it tonight that you can’t quite place. Then you feel Wooyoung come to a stop beside you and you look up to see where you’re at.

It’s a craggy outcrop of rocks outlined against the sea, perfect for fishing and prawning. You can imagine a man with Seonghwa’s nose and jawline, holding a young boy’s hand as he teaches him how to tie a hook to the rod, as a woman with his soft grey eyes smiles fondly at them while patting the head of a girl in her lap. A younger Seonghwa runs up to them, a fish wriggling about at the end of his hook, and his father ruffles his hair proudly, telling him how he’s going to be the greatest fisherman in the future-

There’s a grave marker in the sand.

Seonghwa stares at the tombstone for a moment.

“Can you two… give me a moment?”

Wooyoung frowns in concern and open his mouth to protest against leaving him alone, but you pinch the inside of his wrist and he yelps.

“Of course.” You tell him and he gives you a grateful nod, before you pull Wooyoung with you to the side as Seonghwa turns to face the weathered grave marker alone.

The two of you sit at the side, staring at the sea.

“Do you think…” Wooyoung begins hesitantly, without really looking at you, but then he trails off before he can say anything else. You frown, turning to stare at him.

“Do I think? Yes, I do. Why?”

His eyes shift a little edgily, trying to make up his mind. A little confused, you tug at his sleeve, and he finally meets your gaze, soft green staring into yours. A part of you really loves the colour of his eyes, but another thought invades your mind.

Not as green as his.

You’re shocked for a moment, but the thought fades like smoke before you can catch it.

“You don’t have your memories, don’t you? Do you think… that you could be suppressing your memories like hyung did?”

Fear spikes through you for a moment. You don’t have your memories. Seonghwa had heard the words of the town official for sure but had somehow forced his mind to forget that single fact, how, you didn’t understand.

You don’t know. You really don’t know if you’re suppressing your memories or if they are well and truly removed. What you do know is that every time you close your eyes and try to remember, you see that same beach with waves crashing against it, the night sky sprinkled with diamonds. Besides the one with the green eyes, you have no memories of your past in the least.

Green eyes.

Ever since your near fatal attempt at healing Yeosang, you’d seen the same pair of green eyes in your sleep every night, haunting your dreams. A phantom pain throbs in your chest for a moment, right above your heart, before it vanishes.

Your fingers reach up to brush it subconsciously.

The knife.

But there is no scar there. When you had woken from the week long coma, you had immediately checked your chest for any signs of any physical harm, but you had found absolutely nothing at all, leading you to believe that it had been nothing more than a dream rather than a memory.

The green eyes still lingered at the back of your mind.

The words that he had whispered in your ears.

I will be with you every step of the way.

The words etched in your necklace.

The necklace that had been a vial.

The vial containing the liquid that you had drunk.

You groan and bury your face in your arms, utterly lost at trying to put your shredded memories back together. Wooyoung glances at you a little worriedly. “I have no idea-”

There’s crunching of footsteps in the sand and you look up to see Seonghwa trudging his way back to you, now with a gentle, content smile on his face. You and Wooyoung rise to your feet to meet him, and he calls to the two of you.

“Can you two join me here for a second?”

A little confused, Wooyoung turns to look at you, but you shrug and make your way over to Seonghwa’s family grave marker, slipping and sliding your way across the sand. The two of you come to a stop before the tombstone, where you can see clearly the words engraved into the cool marble.

Here lies Park Seongho, Eun Jung, Hyunjung and Ha Rin.

“Did you need us for something, hyung?” Wooyoung asks, staring at the grave marker just like you. Seonghwa nods.

“I wanted the two of you to be here when I said something to my family.”

His voice is earnest, firm, pleading. You are shocked that Seonghwa would want you here when he needed to say something to his family, but you aren’t going to deny him this one request about something so close to his heart.

Seonghwa turns back to his family grave, kneeling before it. He presses his forehead against the stone, fingers tracing the carvings of their names, as if by doing so it could bring him closer to them. Something in you feels like you’re intruding on this intimate moment between Seonghwa and his family, but he did ask you to stay, so you listen.

“Mother, Father, Hyunjung, Ha Rin…” Seonghwa murmurs softly against the cold stone, eyes fluttering shut. “I hope you can forgive me, but I have no intention of joining you for a very long time.”

A gasp almost forces its way from your throat, and from the way Wooyoung is staring at his crew mate, slack jawed, he’s just as shocked as you are at Seonghwa saying something like that to his family.

“I love you all. I always have. You’ll always be my family.” Seonghwa continues, apparently oblivious to the looks you and Wooyoung are exchanging behind him. “But I have a reason to stay now.”

A warm feeling rises in you, spreading from your chest down to your toes.

“I’ve found another family. Please let me stay with them.”

A tear slips from your eyes, and from the way Wooyoung is wiping his eyes desperately with his sleeve, he’s crying too.

In that second, you hear the shattering of something in the air, soft and barely noticeable, but Seonghwa’s eyes fly open in shock. Then tears start pouring from his eyes and you and Wooyoung approach him in alarm, horrified at what might have happened. But Seonghwa merely waves the two of you off reassuringly, and you’re surprised to see him wiping the tears from his eyes with the happiest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“They’ve stopped.” He can’t stop grinning, joy radiating from him. Wooyoung looks a little confused, frowning.

“What’s stopped?”

Seonghwa laughs through his tears, elated and jubilant even with the tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Their voices. They’ve stopped.”

With that declaration, he gets to his feet, wiping his eyes as he turns to look at the two of you with a bright grin that you can’t help but return. Wooyoung claps his crew mate on the shoulder gently with a smile on his face, the shackles on his wrists jingling.

“That’s good, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa nods enthusiastically, turning to face the sea once more where you know the Treasure is moored, just out of sight of the town. “Well then, let’s get back to the ship-”

But there’s someone standing there.

Your heart skips a beat at the dark shape there, until Wooyoung’s eyes open in surprise and recognition, the man’s name leaving his lips.

“Soobin?”

At the name, Seonghwa’s mouth falls open in shock as he stares the man down. The man too, is gaping at your crew mate in shock.

“Hwaseong?”

“Soobin?”

Then the two take down across the beach, sprinting full speed towards each other like two wild horses on a collision course. And collide they do, the resulting sound of the two men crashing into each other makes you wince and wonder if either of them broke any bones, but they don’t seem to care, leaping up and down in sheer excitement.

You turn to look at Wooyoung, who’s gawking at the two of them in shock as realisation dawns on his face.

“Well, I definitely didn’t expect that.”

Your mouth falls open as you finally get what is happening. Back when the two of you had escaped from the guards of the officials’ building, you had entered this man’s house, the woodcutter with two missing fingers.

“Apparently when he was younger he had a run in with them and helped his friend escape them too, but he lost a couple of fingers in the process.”

You would have never thought that the friend would have been Seonghwa.

“Maybe it’s fate.” You shrug, and Wooyoung grins at you for a moment, before he dashes across the sand and throws himself into the hug as well, tackling the two men off their feet and into the sand. Their shouts and cries ring across the beach to you.

You simply shake your head and move to join them at a more sedately pace.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive after that little stunt you pulled!” Seonghwa wraps his old friend in a hug as Soobin grins widely, something you hadn’t seen the last time. In fact, you’re a little unnerved how that stoic, fierce man’s face can change so much.

“I barely escaped with my life.” Soobin tells him dramatically, raising his left hand so Seonghwa can see the two missing fingers. “One of their bullets ricocheted off a wall and hit my hand, so I lost two fingers, you know! If I had known how much trouble I’d get into for trying to save you, I wouldn’t have done it-”

Seonghwa’s mouth falls open and you see his head hang in guilt. “I’m sorry, Soobin-”

“-so late! Do you see this, my friend?” Soobin flutters his ring finger and Seonghwa’s eyes widen almost comically at the sight of the silver band resting there.

“Someone wanted to marry you?”

The disbelief in Seonghwa’s voice forces a snort from you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hands, but Soobin has already heard it and glances at you. “Ah! Gunshot! I see you’re not dead yet! That’s amazing. And Hwaseong, how dare you!”

Seonghwa is grinning so hard you’re sure his cheeks must be hurting. “So who’s the unlucky girl?”

“Only the most beautiful woman in the world, Kim Seohyun.” Soobin pretends to flip his non existent long hair over his shoulder and you’re sure you’re goggling at the complete attitude change of the man who’d threatened to chop you and Wooyoung up into tiny pieces with his axe. “She was so awestruck by how I had sacrificed two fingers to save your ass that she started talking to me more and more, and that’s how we ended up together.”

“That poor girl.” Seonghwa gushes in pity and Soobin screeches, wrapping Seonghwa in a headlock.

“Shut up! So who are these two?” He gestures at you and Wooyoung, who’s come to stand by you, smiling at Seonghwa’s exuberance. Seonghwa’s smile softens as he turns to look at the two of you.

“My crew mates, Choi Chin Hae and Jung Wooyoung.” Soobin’s eyes widen at the information, glancing over at you. Wooyoung smiles and waves proudly at the mention of his name.

“So you really stayed on that pirate ship?” The woodcutter gapes, and Seonghwa nods happily.

“I’m with them.”

“How is the baby?” You ask Soobin, who grins proudly. You don’t miss the way Seonghwa’s jaw literally drops to the sand as he stares at Soobin.

“Seohyun is pregnant?” His eyes are shining, celebrating his friend’s joy like it’s his own. Soobin nods, a proud father.

“The baby is coming along well. Seohyun and I’ve agreed on names, whether the baby is a girl or boy… the name will be Hwaseong.”

A tear falls from Seonghwa’s eye and he laughs, so happily as if he couldn’t be more joyful. “Don’t be stupid, Soobin. You’re supposed to name your child after something meaningful, not after a wanted criminal on the run-”

Soobin shakes his head firmly.

“You’re not a wanted criminal anymore, Hwaseong.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“A few months after you escaped, a mysterious source from within the town officials removed your name from the wanted list.” Soobin tells him and happiness bubbles within you. Seonghwa is no longer a criminal, and he can return home to Nassau! “If you returned this very second, everyone in this town would welcome you back with open arms, Seonghwa. We’d help you establish a new life here, a house, a eatery, anything you want. We’ve missed you so much the last six years.”

“That’s amazing.” Wooyoung says, turning to glance at Seonghwa. “Hyung, you’re a free man now.”

There is joy in Seonghwa’s eyes as he turns back to look at the soft glow of the town, the place he had grown up in, running along the dirty streets with Soobin and Hyunseok, helping his parents out in the eatery. He can return to Nassau, build a new life with his old friends at his side, meeting the town residents once more and establish himself once more. A life of safety and comfort, one of warmth and joy.

It had been his dream his whole life, to open his own restaurant when he grew up, only for it to be shattered by that terrible event. But now?

Now, all those dreams can come true.

The sea breeze caresses his cheeks, and he turns back to look at the ocean.

What is your Treasure?

Something settles in Seonghwa’s chest, warm and content. He already has his treasure.

Then he shakes his head as he looks at Soobin.

“I can’t.”

The three of you are confused for a moment, all staring at Seonghwa with some sort of shocked expression. What does he mean, he can’t? He can! He can return to Nassau, no longer on the run from the Royal Navy, no longer with a bounty on his head, no longer in fear of death every waking moment. But Seonghwa is insistent.

“I really can’t.” He smiles, turning back to look at you and Wooyoung as he explains himself to Soobin. “I have a new family now.”

Soobin’s eyes soften as you and Wooyoung gape at Seonghwa in shock. “I understand.”

“Well, I don’t!” Wooyoung smacks the back of Seonghwa’s head. “Why don’t you want to return to your hometown, hyung? You’d be safe and have a comfortable life! Soobin and all your friends are here too!”

Seonghwa grins at the smaller man meaningfully.

“Not all of them.”

Your mouth falls open. Seonghwa is choosing to stay a pirate over a comfortable life in Nassau as a cook, like he’s always wanted. He’s giving up everything he’s ever wished for.

“And I haven’t taught Chin Hae all of my kitchen tricks, so how are you going to explain to Captain when the standard of the food drops?”

“Hey!”

Seonghwa laughs, shaking his head as he turns back to Soobin, who’s simply eyeing his friend with a smile. “I have these people who were willing to risk their lives to sneak into Nassau, get shot and whipped just so that I could have closure. I want to stay with them, come what may. Whether it be fair weather or stormy seas, I can’t leave them behind.”

Happiness and disbelief wells up in you. He’s going to stay with the crew. He’s not going to leave all of you behind.

“I know.” Soobin embraces his friend one last time and steps back. Seonghwa moves to join you and Wooyoung, who is still staring at Seonghwa in shock. “I wish you all the best, Seonghwa. Make sure you come back and tell little Hwaseong about all the adventures you’ve had as a bloodthirsty pirate on the high seas.”

Seonghwa gives his friend a smile. He regrets nothing, even as the needle in the compass of his heart settles on a new course.

“I promise.”


	31. The Bookshop

“HAVANA-OHNANA-”

The five of you are walking along the streets, footsteps echoing on the cobbles as you take in the sights about you. It’s a bright and sunny day, with a stiff breeze keeping the temperature cool while you tour the town. You’re dressed lightly for the day, your hair done up in the pin Wooyoung had given you a while back to keep it out of your face.

But Jongho. What is Jongho doing?

Seonghwa sighs, turning to look at their maknae. “Well, he did get drunk yesterday after we told him I was staying with the crew and sobbed for a whole hour about how happy he was.”

“Let’s not forget how he danced around the ship trying to do a striptease to celebrate.” San mutters under his breath. You gulp at the thought and cover your eyes, as if that could change what your eyes have already seen.

You’re probably still traumatised.

“HALF OF MY HEART IS IN HAVANA-”

Yeosang stares worriedly after Jongho, who’s still dancing his way through the marketplace, belting out some song none of you have heard before at the top of his lungs.

“Is he still drunk?”

It’s funny how Captain actually let Jongho go into town with you and the others after the little fiasco yesterday. After returning to the Treasure on your little rowboat, Seonghwa had immediately explained to Captain and the rest about all that had happened. Hongjoong had simply listened quietly to Seonghwa, nodding in understanding when his cook had told him about how he had been tempted to stay in Nassau.

“It was understandable.” Hongjoong had shrugged.

But when Seonghwa had declared he was going to stay with the crew no matter what, you swore you had seen Hongjoong sigh a silent breath of relief under his breath, the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing.

The rest of the crew hadn’t been quite so reserved in showing their joy.

Yunho and Wooyoung, once again the life of the party, had snuck down into the storage hold and swiped an entire cask of aged fire rum, giving drinks out to the whole crew, much to Hongjoong’s horror.

And absolutely the entire ship had gotten dead drunk.

The last time when you had gone drinking with the ATEEZ crew, you had thought you had seen everything. From flirting with inanimate objects to burning down restaurant kitchens, it had been bad. Until you had seen this.

Two words.

Absolute. Pandemonium.

What happened had literally been the stuff of nightmares. Your master, soft spoken oddball Choi San, had only managed two glasses of alcohol before he had gone streaking across the main deck of the ship, dressed in a grass skirt of medicinal herbs which you had been forced to toss this morning due to hygiene purposes. You had managed to save his clothes from being lost to the unknown, but your sanity had been sacrificed in the process as you tried to drag him back to the sickbay all with your eyes firmly shut against the evils of the world.

Mingi. The silent, steady quartermaster was one depressed drunk. After a few minutes of cheering like a lunatic with the rest of the crew, he had suddenly stood up, walked over to the captain’s cabin and lay down on Yeosang’s bed, hugging a terribly ugly plushie that you assumed your master had sewn years ago, a yellow bean in blue suspenders and clearly missing an eye. To it he had sobbed his life story, which mainly involved how he had joined the Treasure and how he wished Hongjoong could have had a better life. You had chosen wisely to leave the cabin before the room flooded with his tears.

Only to run in Jongho, who was in the middle of the main deck attempting to do a striptease along to a tragic ballad he was singing at full volume, hyped on by the rest of the crew chanting along. You had gone already nearly gone blind trying to escort San back to the sickbay, but with Jongho, you weren’t quite as lucky.

For a moment, you had very nearly wanted to claw your own eyes out. Fortunately for you, you had been saved when Jongho had decided to do a swan dive over the side of the ship into the sea all while screaming something that sounded suspiciously like ‘yeet’, prompting the only other sober person besides you on board, Seonghwa, to jump into the frigid waters to rescue him.

And gods. Rational, gentle, innocent and sweet Yeosang had gotten drunk. And when he got drunk, he drank even more. And when he drank even more, boy did he let his mouth run. You never wanted to hear the words that he had used to describe his father leave his mouth ever, and in the morning when they had been slightly more sober than before, Hongjoong had threatened to wash his mouth out with rubbing alcohol if he ever heard them again.

Which was rather ironic, considering that Hongjoong himself had been Yeosang’s most ardent supporter and listener the night before, cursing his own father with all sorts of colourful and creative words that had nearly made your ears bleed. The two had sat in the bow with a bottle of fine, powerful whiskey between them, screaming all sorts of unrepeatable expletives into the dark of the ocean. You had carefully kept clear of the forecastle deck, but even from the main mast you could hear them shrieking words like ‘shitbag’ and ‘bastard can’t even aim a gun properly-’ over the howling of the wind.

You had chosen not to dwell too much on that. After all, you had bigger problems to deal with.

Yunho and Wooyoung had been attempting to swing around the masts. The three of you were rigging monkeys, so this was nothing unusual. The problem with that was that Yunho and Wooyoung were on the verge of getting into a fist fight on the yardams, and that scared you more than it should have.

Because the two of them were fighting over the mast.

“The main mast is the best mast of the three! She’s tall and gorgeous, with such a slim and sleek figure! What does your mast have?” Yunho screamed from above, clinging onto the main mast’s rigging like it was his one true love. You had wondered briefly who he was talking to, until a voice from the mizzen mast had shrieked back in response.

“The mizzen mast is made of the most exquisite conifer! I’d like to see your mast made of anything better!”

It was Wooyoung, the drunk idiot second only to Yunho.

The first time you had caught wind of their argument, you had briefly wondered if you were the drunk one instead, but then you remembered that you hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

“Guys,” You had tried to cajole them into coming down from their dangerously high perches, “The masts are just big sticks-”

From the horrified screeching above you, you would have thought you had just murdered their firstborn children.

“How dare you, Haechin!” Yunho had blubbered, sloshing alcohol everywhere from above and you had been forced to dive out of the way to avoid a shower of rum. Wooyoung had thrown his wooden mug at Yunho with all the fury of a professional thrower but without the aim, so his shot had gone far off. The piece of tableware had flown through the air and hit Jongho straight in the forehead when Seonghwa was trying to haul him back on board, so the maknae simply toppled back into the ocean, much to Seonghwa’s horror.

“Don’t you dare call Chon Ha’s name wrongly!” Wooyoung had screeched from the mizzen mast, dangling upside down from the ropes, failing to recognise the hypocrisy of his statement. “Names are important, Yun Hoe!”

“What did you just call me, Poo Young?”

You had merely stood at the main deck for a long moment, staring up at the masts as you wondered how on earth you were ever going to get them down, the two slinging insults at each other with all the maturity of a five year old child split between the two of them.

“They’re very passionate about this.” Seonghwa had appeared at your side with a limp, kicking Jongho slung over his shoulder. He watched as the two flung rude hand gestures at each other, occasionally forgetting that they needed their hands to hold on to the rigging and almost tumbling off the masts, but somehow managing to save themselves at the last moment. “That’s how the two of them started talking when Wooyoung first joined the ship.”

You had stared at the cook incredulously even as Jongho attempted to struggle out of the sackcloth Seonghwa had tied him up in to save what was left of his shredded dignity. “By talking about which mast is better?”

Seonghwa had shrugged in reply. “Every time they get drunk, they flirt with inanimate objects. Along the way, Wooyoung and Yunho just… fell in love with the mizzen mast and main mast, I guess.”

Maybe the maturity of a five year old split between the two of them had been a little too generous. You doubted they had more brain than Shiber even if you put their minds together.

“I once woke up to see Wooyoung getting it down the mizzen mast. And Yunho attempting to seduce the mast with terrible puns about… you know.” Seonghwa had mumbled, shaking his head as he massaged his temples. He had clearly seen terrible things, you could see the trauma of his experience on the lines of his handsome face. What a difficult life he has been through. “Well, anyway, I need to get Jongho below deck before he attempts to go skinny dipping in the sea again.”

Your eyes had widened in horror as Seonghwa hoisted a whining Jongho higher up his shoulder. “You can’t leave me alone with these two idiots! You’ve known them longer, you should know what to do!”

But Seonghwa merely waved over his shoulder, opening the hatch to below the decks and rolling Jongho’s body down the stairs.

“Look at the blue she dresses herself in! The beauty of her robes, she’s such a fine mast!” Yunho screamed above you, and for a moment you had been very tempted to just grab Mingi’s ax from the cabin and hack the entire mast down.

“You’re merely dressing a swine in pearls!” Wooyoung waved his fist back furiously, his face red from hanging upside down or from the alcohol, you didn’t know. “What matters most is the person within!”

“That would have been so much more touching if he hadn’t been talking about a mast.” You shook your head, completely exasperated. But Wooyoung and Yunho had obviously not forgotten about you, because they turned to you simultaneously.

“Haechin!”

“Choo Ha!”

Their voices echoed together. “Which mast is better?”

You had buried your face in your hands. This was actually a real conversation. These two grown adult men had just asked you which big wooden stick was better than the other.

You’d had enough.

“Neither.”

Yunho had slid down his rope precariously to stare at you in the eye seriously. Then he screamed “What?” so loud in your ears you were pretty sure one eardrum had just given up on you, the sound ringing in your ears. But you had forced yourself to keep your calm.

“The foremast is better.”

Now that you think back on it, you had probably broken them. The two of them had merely gaped at you in shock and horror, and Yunho had actually slipped from the ropes to land in a crumpled heap right next to you.

Sobs had burst out from the mizzen mast.

“How could you say such a cruel thing, Choo Hoo?”

That was probably why the two other rigging monkeys had refused to join your little excursion to Havana today. Neither Wooyoung nor Yunho had met your eye, probably still unable to accept by what you had told them.

It was either that or the roaring hangover both of them had.

Suddenly, a screech pierces the air, much like a dying ostrich and you clap your hands over your ears, eyes flitting around for the source of the noise. Yeosang, too, flinches, but manages to stay a lot more composed than you. He must be too used to the sound of cannon fire and Wooyoung’s shrieking laughter.

“What was that?” You gape, but then all you see is a fruit cart, overturned, and suddenly, it explodes into flames.

Yeosang dives at you, knocking you to the ground as bits of charred wood fall all about you. To your left, you see your master crouched behind another stall with his hands protecting his head. To your right, you see Mingi and Seonghwa ushering a small girl to safety and away from the explosion.

“What happened?” You ask as Yeosang crawls off you, brushing ash from the knees of his pants as the two of you rise to your feet. The navigator frowns, coughing from the sheer amount of smoke as he attempts to see where your battlemaster has gone.

“Where’s that dumb maknae?” San yelps from the ground, and you can see him clutching a small Shiber stuffed toy to his chest protectively. “I swear, if he got into some sort of shit-”

“Language, San!” Yeosang chides, but the tips of his ears turn pink in embarrassment at his hypocrisy. Then he catches sight of something, and his eyes widen in sheer horror. “What the fu-”

You clap a hand over his mouth before he can say anymore.

“-urry cute bunny.” Yeosang manages to save his mouth from a date with rubbing alcohol. “Is that Jongho? With my new explosive, highly dangerous smoke bombs?”

You almost choke in shock as you stare into the clearing smoke. Then you see it. Jongho, hooting madly with laughter as he raises another hand bomb in his hands. Yup, definitely still drunk. “Oh, fu-”

What has Jongho done?

Before you too have a date with rubbing alcohol, San spots the town law enforcement approaching, the sound of their boots thundering across the stone pavement. The healer looks at you determinedly. You glance at him, intending to convey your message to him. Your master has always understood you intuitively, much like how you and Wooyoung can communicate through touch alone.

We’ve got to get Jongho out of there before the officials spot him.

San nods seriously in agreement.

Then he opens his mouth and screams. “Abandon ship!”

With that, he shoots down a small lane and out of sight before you can say a word. To your horror, Mingi and Seonghwa bolt as well, as if this is a drill they’ve practiced thousands of times.

Your eyes widen. Those little shits…

You and Yeosang exchange grim looks. Neither of you want to do it, but you’ve been saddled with the responsibility. You’re going to murder San when you get back to ship.

“We need to save Jongho’s ass.”

“We do.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t make it any easier to do.

So this time when Yeosang swears rather colorfully, you don’t bother stopping him.

Yeosang takes your hand and yanks you with him as he grabs Jongho by the scruff of the neck. The surprised maknae barely has the time to react before Yeosang is dragging him down the street with you, deceptively strong for such a lithe person. The three of you duck into an alley, just as the officers dash past you, shouting for the offender to step forward and admit to his crimes.

“Let the world burn!” Jongho crows, attempting to toss the bomb to the ground. Yeosang struggles against him, trying to get him to let go of the bomb and simultaneously attempting to shut him up at the same time. Honestly, what on earth did Jongho drink last night? How was he still drunk even now?

Then the memory comes back to you.

This morning, Jongho had woken up with a hangover, like everyone else on the ship. He had come to you, looking for something to help with the headache, so you had suggested a common household remedy, a splash of gin with a tomato based drink to take the edge off.

Just a little gin, you remembered saying. When you had walked into the storage hold to clear up after the night before, you had seen an entire bottle of gin, empty and bone dry on the floor. At the moment, you had wondered if Jongho had drunk the whole bottle himself in the morning, but you waved it off, Jongho couldn’t be that stupid, and the empty bottle was probably just from last night.

Well, apparently Jongho was that stupid, because he had likely downed the entire bottle of hard liquor by himself in the morning and had gotten drunk all over again.

“I heard some noise coming from over here!”

You and Yeosang exchange glances and begin panicking simultaneously. Your eyes search the alleyway desperately for some means of escape, but all you see is a shop with grimy windows that are too dirty to see through…

And that is perfect.

You pull on Yeosang’s sleeve and tug him into the door, the tinkling of chimes signalling your arrival. The two of you barely manage to bundle the screeching human shape that is Jongho into the shop after you before you hear the guards run past the door. The three of you land in a tangled heap on the ground.

“We’ve got to catch those offenders!”

You groan in exasperation and feel tempted to slap your forehead, but you reach over and smack Jongho instead. The maknae yelps, but at least he drops the bomb into Yeosang’s outstretched palm before abruptly falling unconscious.

“I wish we could kill him.” You glare at his form. Today was supposed to be a relaxing day off, one in which all of you could relax together, and you and San had intended on visiting the herb garden markets for rare plants and the like. Now it seems as if you will have to wait until tomorrow to wait for the fuss to die down.

“How may I help the three of you?”

You jump in shock, scrambling backwards and almost knocking Yeosang over. He moves in front of you protectively, and from his sleeve you see the glint of something silver just in case.

But it’s just an old man standing there, with greying hair and eyes that seem to keep shifting colour. You frown. At one moment they seem to be blue, then brown, then grey, and in the end you give up on trying to decide exactly what shade they are. He must be the owner of this shop.

“Ah!” You and Yeosang exchange glances and your eyes flit around the shop, your foot shoving Jongho’s prone form behind you as you try to find a suitable excuse. “We were… ah… we were looking for a book.”

It’s a bookshop, after all.

“That’s nice to hear. You rarely get youngsters such as yourself who are interested in books.” The old man smiles warmly, and something in you feels like you want to stay with him somehow. He radiates a sense of comfort that you want to keep with you at all times. “Are the two of you married? He seems like a sweet boy.”

You spit and Yeosang chokes at the same time, you reach over to slap his back as he tries to recover from his coughing fit. “Thank you, sir.” Yeosang thumps his chest, heart racing beneath his skin at the man’s words. “But we’re just friends.”

“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow, and you frown again, wondering how his eyes can be such a unique shade that you cannot identify. “Then again, there are always more choices. Fate changes, you know, like a stream flowing down a mountain. It curves and winds, overcoming whatever is in its way. No path is definite.”

You cough awkwardly. “Yes, sir.”

As weird as this conversation is, you’d prefer him to ask you about this than Jongho’s body. Maybe the man is too senile to think otherwise about a dead drunk body on the floor.

“Anyway, I might have the book for you.” The old man moves about the shelves, searching for something, you don’t know. You glance about you, the shelves are made from tree roots grown into the wall, the books leaning against a wall of soil. Then you realise why the floor is so soft. It’s a carpet of soft green grass, well kept with tiny flowers blooming. Your eyes widen in wonder at the beauty of it all.

“Your shop is beautiful.” You gush, astounded at the effort that must have gone into creating and maintaining this shop. “You must have worked hard on it.”

The old man’s fingers still on the spine of a book. “Well… I have a… talent for these sort of things and I enjoy it… I suppose you could say I have a green thumb.”

With that, he pulls out a book from the shelves and offers it to you. “That’s a beautiful necklace, by the way.” He comments, gesturing to the silver chain hanging from your neck. You smile as you accept the book gratefully, Yeosang peeks over your shoulder at the cover.

“Thank you. I’ve had it with me for a long time.”

The Little Mermaid.

“Isn’t this a kid’s storybook?” Yeosang asks, studying the rendition of the mermaid drawn on the cover. The old man nods wisely.

“It is sometimes the simplest things that hold the most truth.” He says and you nod gratefully, reaching into your pocket to pay him for the book (and for harboring the three of you from guards). But he stops you. “Ah, don’t pay me. I have a feeling you might need that book. Have you ever heard of the saying, do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it? Although it may be a little different… in this case.”

You don’t really understand what he’s saying and shake your head, but take the book anyway. “Thank you very much, sir.”

Yeosang hoists one of Jongho’s arms over his shoulder and the three of you prepare to leave, but the old man calls out to you one last time.

“Chin Hae?”

“Hmm?” You turn around in response to your name. The old man smiles at you, and suddenly you feel something wet sliding down your cheek. It’s a tear, you realise in shock, and hurriedly wipe it away before he can see.

Why are you crying in front of an old man.

“That’s a beautiful name. I’m glad they chose it for you. Stay safe.”

You frown a little at the strangeness of his words, but you thank him anyway for the compliment and well wish. Then you and Yeosang are out of the shop, the chimes swaying as the door clicks shut. The old man stares after the three of you, watching through the window as you speak to Yeosang about the book.

“Chin Hae, huh?”

He glances around the shop. This is such a measly sight of what he can do, but you complimented it and called it beautiful. If only you could see the true beauty of it, like you’ve always wanted to.

“Maybe soon.” He murmurs to himself and snaps his fingers.

Suddenly, the old, aged trees shrink back into the wall of earth, the plants wilting and dying in mere seconds, the flowers falling to the earth and vanishing into the soil. The books, shelves, everything disappears in mere seconds, and suddenly, the old shopkeeper is standing in the empty alleyway all by himself.

Except he’s not an old man anymore.

The skin on his face stretches and smooths out once more, his skin darkening till it takes on an earthy brown tone. The colours in his eyes swirl together, twisting and mixing in a kaleidoscope of shades until it finally settles on one single hue.

A bright, unearthly green that no one else in the world can replicate.


	32. The Little Mermaid

You’re back on the ship.

“So,” Hongjoong eyes Jongho with an unamused look, “You got so drunk yesterday night you tried to ruin the eyes of everyone on board, went diving into the ocean butt naked and made Seonghwa save you, then drank a bottle of my finest gin and caused an explosion in town.”

Jongho swallows quietly. Yunho had taken one look at the still dead drunk maknae and tossed him into the sea himself. The poor battlemaster had awoken splashing furiously in the sea and had ended up with a crab in his hair that refused to let go.

You would have pitied him, but after all the nonsense he’d put you through, the vindictive part of you whispers that he kind of deserved it.

Mingi groans as he mentally calculates the cost of damages he’ll have to pay on behalf of the crew. “Oh my god… maybe we should just sell Jongho off to pay for it.”

The younger battlemaster looks up in horror.

“Of course we should!” San calls from the door of the sickbay, shaking his head in disappointment, as if he himself didn’t almost do the exact same thing yesterday night. Seonghwa nods in agreement from the galley stairs.

“We’ll cut down a lot on our food expenses. Half the barrel of apples went missing again.”

Jongho splutters in protest.

“But who would want to buy Jongho?” Wooyoung calls from the rigging on the main mast, swinging back and forth in the wind. Hongjoong scratches his chin thoughtfully as he ponders this, much to Jongho’s shock. They’re actually considering this?

“I was drunk!” Jongho tries to explain himself, but Yunho snorts derisively, shaking his head in mock disappointment with his arms crossed.

“Yes, everyone could see that.”

“You were trying to make out with the main mast, you know.” You remind Yunho quietly, and he pretends not to have heard you.

“But… because we love you so much, we’ll keep you.” Hongjoong finally sighs dramatically, and it’s only then that Jongho realises everyone has been playing him the whole time, all hiding grins behind their hands. The maknae scowls.

He’s been played.

“Hey, captain!” Jongho calls, and Hongjoong stops laughing to look at him curiously.

“Yes?”

“Remember that time you got drunk and-” He’s cut off when your captain leaps at him, pinning him to the ground, one hand over his mouth to prevent him from talking anymore.

“Shut up!”

You shake your head, turning to San. At this point, you’re not even surprised at what is happening. “I’ll be in the sickbay if you need me.”

Your master raises an eyebrow as he watches Yunho tackle both Jongho and Hongjoong in a flying hug, sending the two crashing to the ground and rolling across the deck. “Do you have something to do?”

“I’m going to kill you if you every speak a word about it again!” Hongjoong screeches and Jongho bites the hand over his mouth. “Yunho, get off me! Jongho! How dare you bite your captain-”

“I was thinking about reading the book I got in town.” You hold up the book the shopkeeper had given you earlier. San glances at the cover even as Wooyoung swings down from the rigging onto the human pile with a crash.

“Ow! Poo Young, what the hell?”

“Shut up, Yun Hoe!”

“That’s a kid’s nursery story. I think I read that when I was five.” The healer tells you in a completely deadpan tone and you hold the book protectively to you, eyeing San with puffed cheeks.

“Are you calling me childish?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Your master shrugs, but you recognise the distinctly teasing glint in your eye. Over his shoulder, you see Seonghwa shake his head at the lack of maturity and decorum of the rest of his crew… and jumps right into the thrashing pile.

“Seonghwa-hyung!” You yelp in shock, but you’ve already lost him in the mass of flailing limbs and swinging hands.

“Go read your book.” San steers you by the shoulders and pushes you in the direction of the sickbay. “Leave the immaturity to me.”

You’re throw him a look. “You’re just as immature as they are, master.”

San gasps dramatically at your words, one hand comes up to his chest in a betrayed expression, all with his usual deadpan expression. “How could you? That tongue of yours, Chin Hae.”

Then he turns and jumps into the pile as well.

You roll your eyes and make your way to the sickbay, pushing open the door and stepping inside. When the door closes behind you, the shouts and shrieks from the main deck thankfully die down, leaving you in peace and silence.

You make your way over to the door in the back, stepping into the bedroom you share with San. The smell of rosemary and honey fills the air and you wonder what new concoction San is experimenting with this time.

“Probably just wanted an excuse to eat the honey.” You mutter to yourself, seating yourself on your bed. The bed opposite yours is unmade, as usual. San didn’t want to get up this morning, so you had to bring a bucket to his bedside for him to puke into.

You study the hand drawn rendition of the mermaid on the cover, startlingly lifelike with eyes that one moment seem as blue as a calm sea, but in the next seem to be a choppy grey that reminds you of stormy waves. You rub your eyes a little, wondering whether you’ve been getting enough sleep. First the old man, then this?

“I must be going crazy.” You mutter to yourself, turning the page. There’s a small dedication written on it in emerald green ink.

For the Queen of the Seas.

You snort at that. The Queen of the Seas? Who is that? The only person you know with any such title is your captain, who you know is regarded as the Pirate King by the Royal Navy and pirates all over the world. Is there a Pirate Queen now? And why would anyone write a child’s storybook for a pirate?

You shake your head and begin reading.

Once upon a time, when the world was first breathed into life by the word of the Creator, it was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the presence of the Creator hovered over the waters.

You frown, checking the title. It says the Little Mermaid, right? This… doesn’t really seem like a children’s book.

“Let the waters of the world be gathered together, so that the land and seas may be separated.” The Creator declared, and from there the waters gathered into one, and dry land was formed. Life was breathed into the world, and the essence of the sea spread throughout the waters, bringing many beings into life.

You are pretty sure this isn’t the same children’s storybook Yeosang and San were talking about, but you continue reading it anyway.

From the sea foam a mermaid was born, without a name, as all those of the sea came of the same essence. She rose from the sea, and for aeons it was at her beck and call. Over time, many creatures such as the hafgufa were created of the same essence and the oceans were filled with life that flourished for millenia.

This story is pretty interesting for a mere fairy tale.

One day, the mermaid discovered a mortal human, unconscious, on the beach of a deserted island. The humans had been created when the Creator had combined the water of the sea and dirt of the land to form clay, the Creator sculpted the human and breathed the breath of life into the human’s lungs, the human became a living being, an immortal soul dwelling within its mortal body.

An immortal soul dwelling within its mortal body. That reminds you of something similar you’ve heard before…

A jewel resting in a jar of clay.

A shiver runs up your spine and you quickly flip to the next page to get the thoughts out of your mind.

Each mortal was unique, beautifully and wonderfully made by the Creator. They flourished on the earth from which they had come, they were fruitful and increased in number, filling the earth and subduing it. Confined to the sea, this was the first human the mermaid had come across.

Okay. This story is starting to scare you a little. This is nothing like what you had expected.

The mermaid breathed the essence of the ocean into the human’s lungs and the human was brought back from the brink of death. Wanting to know the name of his saviour, the human asked for it. The mermaid had no name, so she told the human what she was, but the human could not repeat it to her. For the first time in her existence, the mermaid strongly desired a name.

You can relate to this story a little. You, too, had no name when you had first awoken. You can emphasize with the mermaid, knowing that even though a name is not something you physically need, you still long for it with all your heart. It reaches past your physical desires to something deeper within, right to your very soul.

The mermaid gave him both a blessing and a gift of immense value. When she left him, she promised that one day in the future, she would tell him her name.

Your mouth falls open. Did the mermaid get a name, just like you did?

The mermaid called upon the Creator, whose breath had formed her essence. The Creator told her that she could not be bestowed a name worthy of her because she was merely a conscience of the oceans and did not have an everlasting soul as the mortals did. One day when she perished, she would merely return to the sea foam from which she had come.

“That’s so sad.” You mutter to yourself, turning the page. “Isn’t this supposed to be some kids’ story? It’s way too depressing.”

The mermaid decided to obtain a soul. Travelling into the most dangerous parts of the ocean to find the sea witch, she learned that to obtain a soul, she must fall in love with a human and become one with him, so that part of his soul would flow into her and she would become a human.

“That… seems pretty okay, actually.” You mumble to yourself. All you need for a soul is to marry someone?

The sea witch offered to give her a pair of legs to dance upon land like no human ever could in exchange for her memories. She agreed, but the sea witch warned her that if she did not fall in love with a man before her legs crumbled into soil, she would return to seafoam as she did not belong on land and from there on would cease to exist.

Horror sinks in your chest.

“What?”

You desperately read the last line on the page.

The little mermaid agreed.

You flip to the next page, but to your shock, the last few pages have been torn out, except for a single blank page. There is no more story. You know that it’s stupid that you’ve become attached to a nameless character so fast, but you need to know what happened to her!

Turning the last page, you see something written in green ink.

I will be with you every step of the way.

Your eyes fly wide and you grip the necklace around your neck, fingers shaking. The man in your dreams. He had somehow given you this book. What? How? Why? He was real. It wasn’t just a dream. Your heart is thundering at a speed that should scare you, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

You laugh a little unsteadily, thousands and millions of thoughts speeding through your mind.

Then you remember the knife in your chest and you pause.

Do you really want to find him?

You see the words written beneath.

Come to Eleuthera.

Yes. You need your memories back.

With that, you dash out of the sickbay, back onto the main deck, where the crew is still wrestling about. Your eyes catch your captain trying to escape from the bottom of the human pile, but you don’t have the sanity of mind to help him out. You shout his name.

“Captain!”

Hongjoong stills at the urgency in your voice, turning to look at you from beneath Yunho and San. Your master and crew mate look similarly confused, but you ignore all of them, speaking directly to your captain.

“I need to go to Eleuthera!”


	33. Ultimate Betrayal

“Eleuthera?” Your captain repeats, as he sits down at his desk. You need to get to this island and figure out who this man is, the one with the answer to your missing memories. You nod frantically, clutching the book to your chest.

“Yes, captain.”

Hongjoong stills in reorganizing the papers on his desk and gives you a side glare, as if waiting for you to notice something. You frown, a little confused by what he wants from you, but then you see Yeosang mouthing a word over his shoulder.

“Hongjoong!”

Yes, of course that’s the name of your captain. What your captain wants is what you don’t understand.

“What?”

Captain groans and puts his head in his hands. “Call me Hongjoong.” He sounds almost whiny, like a child not getting his way, and you stare at your captain a little incredulously. Seriously, why is this the most important thing on his mind now?

“Captain gets whiny after he drinks.” Yeosang supplies helpfully from behind his captain’s back. You make a small noise of understanding.

“Yes, captain.” The words slip out of your mouth by force of habit and you immediately clap a hand over your mouth, a sheepish smile on your face. Your captain knocks his head against the desk in exasperation and a groan escapes his mouth as you and Yeosang exchange looks.

“Ugh.” Hongjoong reaches for a map at his side, opening it. You sidle up to his side as he searches the map for Eleuthera, Yeosang joining you in looking for the location.

“Why do you suddenly need to go to Eleuthera, though?” The navigator asks you curiously as your captain flips the map around. “Captain, it’s near the Bahamas Islands.”

“Thanks.” Hongjoong replies as he leans over the map, squinting to read the tiny handwritten scrawls on the yellowed vellum. “Chin Hae, why do you want to go to Eleuthera?”

You pause for a moment and the two men turn to look at you, waiting for an answer. Thinking about it now, you realise how strange it is to say that the reason you want them to travel all the way to a foreign island is all on a whim that you hope to find the man who had given you this necklace, a person you who may not even have your memories.

All based on the words written on the back of this book, which had been given to you by a shopkeeper out of nowhere.

What if it’s mere coincidence that the same words inscribed on your necklace are written on the book as well?

You bite your bottom lip, chewing nervously as you try to make up your mind.

What if you just end up burdening your crew for nothing?

Then you remember what Hongjoong had told Seonghwa, back that time when he had locked himself in the ship galley.

“I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”

The last time you had kept secrets from the rest of the crew, massive disasters had happened one after the other and you are not excited to repeat the experience all over again. So you clench your fist and look your captain in the eye.

I’m going to be honest this time.

“Remember that time I was healing Yeosang and fell unconscious for a week?” You say and the two flinch back as if you’ve struck them in the face with a whip. Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to start with something so depressing. “I had a… dream… of sorts… I mean, it didn’t feel like a dream, more like an old memory, but-”

“You don’t need to explain things, just tell us, we’ll listen.” Hongjoong cuts you off and you realise that you’re rambling. You shut your mouth, thinking about how to phrase it a little more eloquently. “So, I had a dream about meeting a man with really, really green eyes on a beach. And he told me that he would be with me every step of the way and touched my necklace. I don’t know how, but he somehow carved the words into the metal with his thumb.”

Hongjoong stares at you owlishly for a moment and you realise how stupid that sounds.

“Ahh, the necklace you woke up with?” Yeosang pipes up curiously and you turn to look at him in surprise.

“How did you know? I’ve never told you before.” You don’t recall ever bringing up your necklace in a conversation with him, but Yeosang shakes his head.

“San told me.” He explains dryly. “That man can’t keep a secret to save his life. Honestly I’m not sure how he even managed to hide the fact that you were a woman for more than a day.”

You shrug. “That sounds like Master. Anyway, my necklace really does have that inscription on it, so I’m sure it must be something important. And then this book,” you lift it up so that the two of them can see it clearly, “had the exact same words on them, with a message telling me to go to Eleuthera.”

Hongjoong is silent for a moment, resting his chin on his fingers as he thinks about what you have just said. A bead of nervous sweat slides down your temple, and for a moment you’re afraid that he might not believe you or call you foolish, but he simply nods.

Excitement bubbles up in you.

“We’ll go.”

“Thank you, captain!” You gush happily and lean across the desk to wrap your captain in a grateful hug. You’re finally going to be one step closer to finding out about who you once were! Then you hear a choking noise coming from Hongjoong and you lean back to glance at your captain, only to be shocked to see his entire face a bright red.

You realise what you’ve just done.

“Sorry, captain!” You yelp, jumping back as if your captain is on fire. You hear a snort escaping Yeosang as he covers his mouth with his hand, attempting quite unsuccessfully to hide his laughter from the two of you.

“I’m fine. I’m not dead.” Hongjoong wheezes, looking as if you’d just slapped him in the face. “I just… Just warn me next time, alright?”

“Yes, captain!” You shout breathlessly and Hongjoong winces at the volume of your declaration.

“Call me Hongjoong-”

“Actually, didn’t you go with Jongho to visit some fortune teller who told you about a sea witch who likely made you?” Yeosang interrupts the two of you and suddenly you hear something clatter to the ground behind you.

You almost jump out of your skin in fright, whipping around to see Mingi there, staring at you with his mouth hanging open, a tray with bread and cheese on the floor. Yeosang yelps ‘the food!’ and runs to pick it up, but the quartermaster simply continues staring at you in horror.

Hongjoong frowns. “Mingi, are you okay?”

The quartermaster lets out a terrified, squeaky sound that you would have never thought he could make. His face is completely white and drained of all colour as he stares at Yeosang, knees shaking. Did something happen?

“Witch?”

At that, Hongjoong snorts, rolling his eyes. “No, Mingi. They’re just talking about the time Chin Hae went to a fortune teller. It’s nothing scary.”

If that was supposed to relieve Mingi, it didn’t work, because Mingi continues shivering in fear. “But… witches…”

“Mingi’s afraid of these kind of things.” Yeosang mouths to you through a mouthful of bread and you nod in realisation.

“I don’t really believe in this kind of things, most of them are nothing but myths and legends anyway.” Your captain shrugs, setting the map down and circling something with his quill. Yeosang glances at Hongjoong for a moment as he puts another piece of cheese into his mouth.

“Don’t you have that magical knot?”

Hongjoong pauses for a moment, fingering a rope necklace around his neck. It is then you see the same short length of rope you had seen before dangling at its end, only one knot left in it. The final knot that would summon a hurricane of the seas.

“How did you get that though, captain?” You ask and Hongjoong touches it briefly, lips pulling into a frown. Yeosang passes you a piece of bread and you chew it slowly. Seonghwa’s cooking is always the best.

“Once when I was young, I was abandoned on an island and got shot in the right eye.” His fingers trace the stitching of his eye patch absentmindedly as he recalls what had happened to him years ago. Your own eyes go wide, you’d never known that had happened to your captain before. “I thought I would have died… but then I woke up to find that the bleeding had stopped and I had this rope in my hand. I don’t remember how I got it, but I simply knew how to use it.”

“Witch.” Mingi whispers as he rubs his arms nervously. You can see goosebumps on the back of his forearms. Is he really that afraid of the arcane? “And there’s a ghost on the ship-”

“What?” You choke on your bread and Yeosang rushes to you in alarm, slapping you on the back. You wave his concern off, thumping your chest as you stare at the quartermaster in alarm. “There’s a ghost on board?”

“Don’t be silly. There aren’t any ghosts on board-” Hongjoong tries desperately to reassure the two of you, but Mingi nods furiously.

“Yeah! One time Seonghwa-hyung brought back this really creepy doll from a raid and put it in captain’s cabin! It had those big glass eyes and it was made of porcelain.” Mingi shivers at the thought of it. “But Seonghwa-hyung thought it was really cute and kept it with him. He even cleaned it every day.”

You swallow nervously, hanging onto Mingi’s every word with bated breath. “And then?”

Mingi meets your eyes with grim finality. You can see the terror that lingers in his eyes after so long as his voice drops to a whisper.

“Then one day, it suddenly went missing, and till this day no one knows where it is.”

Terror creeps up in you. “Missing?” You repeat, unsure if you heard him right. “Like… missing out of nowhere?”

“Yes.” Mingi nods seriously, not an ounce of a smile on his face. He looks so grim about this that you’re actually a little frightened. “Seonghwa-hyung searched the whole cabin for it, but he couldn’t find it. Not even Hongjoong-hyung knows where it went.”

Hongjoong coughs into his hand. “Now now, it probably just rolled somewhere-”

“That’s scary.” Yeosang nods, shuddering a little as he glances around the cabin, eyes flitting from corner to corner as if he’s trying to find the ghost for himself. “From what I heard, quite a few of Seonghwa-hyung’s things have gone missing from the cabin, haven’t they? My books also tend to shift location sometimes, even when I’m very sure I didn’t touch them.”

You see your captain blanch slightly out of the corner of your eye as he coughs again. Is Captain sick? He looks a little pale.

“That sounds like something paranormal happening.” You mutter, and the quartermaster nods

“Exactly!” Mingi points at Yeosang as if the navigator is all the evidence he needs. “Even Yeosangie knows something is up! Seonghwa-hyung is really careful with his things, so they can’t have just disappeared into the air!”

“Seriously, everyone, you can’t just think there’s a ghost on board because a few things went missing from the cabin-” Hongjoong tries to calm all of you down, but he’s interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.

You and Yeosang grab each other’s hands instinctively, while Mingi jumps behind the desk in fright, knocking over a chair in the process.

“I heard my name. Is there something all of you needed?” Seonghwa steps into the cabin with a confused frown on his face, until he sees the too tall quartermaster crouched under Hongjoong’s table. “Uh… Mingi-ah, what are you doing?”

“Oh, it’s just Seonghwa-hyung.” Mingi heaves a sigh of relief and starts to climb out from beneath the table. Seonghwa’s concerned face goes flat at those words.

“I do not know whether to be insulted-”

The door creaks open again and you and Yeosang grab at each other in fright. But Mingi jumps and knocks his head hard on the table, sending a few books sliding off onto the table and crashing to the ground. The sound must obviously be pretty loud, because the two people entering the room start in surprise as well.

It’s Wooyoung and Jongho, who both look very confused. “Did we come at a bad time?” Jongho turns to stare at Mingi, who is lying on the ground with his head in his hands, groaning and surrounded by books.

“They think there’s a ghost on board.” Yeosang supplies unhelpfully and Wooyoung glances at the two of you with your arms wrapped around each other. Something flashes in his green eyes for a moment, but then his grin returns so fast you’re unsure whether you were just seeing things. The gunner steps to bend over Mingi.

“Boo!”

Mingi shrieks and jumps into the air, bolting for the door but runs straight into the doorjamb. The poor quartermaster staggers back as Wooyoung cries tears of laughter, wheezing for air. A snort escapes Jongho, but at least the maknae goes to help Mingi up from the floor. Unfortunately for him, that was a bad choice, because Mingi is immediately clings to the shorter man like a leech, unwilling to let go.

“Hyung! Get a hold of yourself! Literally!”

“But it is true. Some of my things from earlier raids do keep going missing.” Seonghwa ponders this thoughtfully and Mingi wails in fright, long arms wrapping around Jongho’s neck as the younger battlemaster tries to fight him off.

“Heuk! Hyung, I’m choking-”

“I heard strange groaning noises once when I went into the cabin before.” Wooyoung adds with a little grin.

“Now, everyone-” Hongjoong tries to calm everyone down, but at this point, no one is listening to him anymore.

The quartermaster screeches right into Jongho’s ear and the maknae instinctively raises his hands to cover his ears.

And in doing so, he punches Mingi in the jaw.

“Ow!” The tall man stumbles backwards and you see a dark bruise starting to form on his cheek. Then the door opens once again and Mingi is clutching onto his captain like a man possessed. The poor quartermaster must be on the verge of a heart attack at this point by all these false alarms.

“Does anyone want tea?” San pokes his head in with Yunho trailing behind him like a lost puppy and Mingi screams at the number of times he’s been scared by people simply walking into the cabin.

“I don’t want your damn leaf water!” Mingi shrieks and Hongjoong finally has had enough.

“Everybody keep quiet!”

For once, the cabin actually falls silent. Wooyoung must be as surprised as you are, because he turns to his captain with an awestruck look on his face.

“Captain… people actually listen to you.”

“Shut up!”

Hongjoong takes several deep breaths to calm himself down, cheeks red from all the shouting he has been doing. “Seonghwa… I’m sorry to say this, but your doll didn’t go missing out of nowhere.”

The cook pauses, turning to stare at his captain with wide eyes. “Captain… you-”

“I threw it into the sea, alright?” The truth spills out of Hongjoong and Seonghwa steps back, stunned as if he’s been shot in the chest, his face one of utter betrayal. Then he laughs in disbelief and shock, eyeing his captain incredulously.

“You threw Pom Pom into the sea?”

Pom Pom?

“He actually named that thing?” Yeosang mumbles under his breath. From how Mingi described the doll, it must have looked rather hideous and not quite deserving of such a cute sounding name. Seonghwa-hyung must have weird taste.

“I’ve never seen Seonghwa-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung argue before, and this is seriously what they’re fighting about?” Jongho scratches head in disapproval. San shrugs, passing you a mug of tea.

“The two of them always got on so well that I’ve never seen them fight either.”

“Yes, I did.” Hongjoong tries to explain himself, but Seonghwa waves him off.

“If I had known this I would have just stayed on Nassau-”

“It was very scary to have it in the cabin though.” You hear Yeosang say and for a moment you’re grateful that the strangest things that San brings into your shared bedroom are mostly deformed sticks and herbs.

“I can’t believe you did that to Pom Pom! All she wanted was a happy life on board this ship, and you cruelly threw her away-”

They’re seriously having this argument right now. For a moment, you wonder if the two of them are still drunk from last night.

“Anyone wants some apples from the storage hold while Seonghwa-hyung is distracted?” Jongho calls and Yunho nods excitedly in agreement.

Then all of you file out of the cabin, leaving your captain to explain himself all alone.

In the end, Seonghwa does forgive your captain and the two of them make up with a hug, but you catch him religiously counting his dolls every night before bed and giving Hongjoong the evil eye when the captain steps too close.

It’s not long before you wish a ghost was the biggest problem you had.


	34. Green Eyes

Eleuthera is beautiful.

A long island with sparkling white and pink sand and crystal clear waters, it’s a bustling coastal town with lively, chattering people at every turn. From each corner of the street, there are colourful stalls with an exotic array of different wares and on the sea breeze you catch the smell of myrrh and frankincense.

“So what are we going to do today?” Yunho asks, as he glances around the town, excited to explore. Hongjoong has already informed the crew of the reason you have come to Eleuthera, but it seems that they are treating it more of a vacation instead.

Your captain frowns as he gazes over the town. “I don’t know how you’re going to find that green eyed man from your dreams, but we could always take this time to explore slowly. Everyone, let’s divide into groups and have some free and easy.”

“Let’s go herb exploring!” San grins enthusiastically, taking your hand and swinging it up and down. The excitement must come from the novelty of being in a completely new place because your master is literally bouncing up and down like a hyperactive bunny, overflowing with energy. “I’m sure there’s a lot of interesting things for us to see here!”

You smile at your master, about to agree, but then someone cuts in abruptly.

“She’ll come with me.”

You stare at him in shock.

Of all the people you had thought would say that, it had been the person you expected least. Everyone else seems to think so too, because they all turn around to stare at him in surprise as well.

Mingi looks at all of you determinedly, his deep brown eyes unwavering. There’s still a fresh purple bruise on his jaw from where Jongho had hit him a few days ago on accident so it’s a little hard to take him seriously, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to take a no for an answer.

It’s strange, though. You and the quartermaster have never had much reason to speak to each other, and even though you’ve seen him afraid of bugs and the like to the point his massive height is not actually intimidating to you anymore, you know that the last time you spoke, he was furious with you for getting the crew into serious danger.

In fact, part of you is still kind of afraid of him.

“Uhh-”

“Don’t forget, you still owe me for breaking my nose the last time.” The quartermaster reminds you and you pause with your mouth open in a feeble attempt of a protest, but what he’s saying is true, after all…

Hongjoong turns to his oldest friend, a little confused. “Mingi, what are you-”

“Then it’s settled.” Mingi declares, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you with him. San yelps as you’re tugged away from him but doesn’t do anything, instead pouting and clinging to Yeosang who looks just as confused as you are. “We’ll be back to the ship by sunset.”

“Help!” You mouth to the navigator, who simply flails his arms around desperately in a clear sign of ‘I don’t know what to do either!’ You can only watch their forms getting smaller and smaller as the quartermaster pulls you with him away from the rest of the crew.

He leads you down a set of alleyways and you take in the vibrantly coloured mosaic walls, the beautiful geometric patterns and the brightly stained windows that you’ve never seen before. This place seems to be one full of happiness and relaxation, the sounds of a flute and fiddle drifting down the street attempting to draw you into its melody, but you still can’t stop the anxious thumping in your heart.

Why does Mingi want with you?

To your surprise, you and Mingi break free of the town, leaving civilisation behind as he leads you to a stretch of beach. It’s the most beautiful beach you’ve ever seen, actually, with pastel pink sands and jewel-like aquamarine waters, but what makes you panic a little is how secluded it is.

“You’re not going to kill me and hide my body, are you, Mingi-hyung?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and you clap a hand over your face in horror. Mingi stops in front of you abruptly and you go crashing into his shoulder, bruising your nose, but he doesn’t turn back to look at you.

There’s silence.

You gulp nervously when you see his jaw clench. Did you make Mingi angry?

Then he turns around with a pout.

“Am I really that scary to you?”

You stare at his face for a short moment in shock, eyeing his pout with something between incredulity and sheer horror. You’ve seen Mingi angry, you’ve seen him in a battle fueled rage, you’ve seen him smile when Captain is smiling and you’ve seen him screaming for his life, but a pout?

A shiver runs up your spine at such a foreign expression on his face.

“I must be, huh…” The quartermaster grumbles unhappily under his breath as he shakes his head. Then he pinches his cheeks with his fingers, twisting the skin there before he turns to face you again with some distorted growl on his face.

You nearly scream with shock.

“How do I look now?” He asks you, his deep voice muffled because of the strange shape his mouth is in. It takes you a long moment, but you eventually realise he’s trying to pull his lips into a smile.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at his efforts.

“You look… like you’re smiling.” You manage to lie through your teeth and finally Mingi gives you an actual smile that is miles better than his terrible attempt, a gummy one that shows off all his teeth and actually makes something in you soften a little. But soon it slides off his face into a more serious look and he sits down on the sand, patting the ground next to him.

“Sit down for a moment.”

You’re a little surprised at his abrupt change of attitude but still do as he says. The sight from here is surreal, the orange rays of the setting sun making the water sparkle like a sea of emeralds, turning the sand a luminescent pink-orange, as if they’re fresh coals from a burning fire.

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in the view, a little lost in how beautiful this place is.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Mingi begins and you turn to glance at him, a little curious. Why would the quartermaster want to speak to you now, of all times?

“Alright.” You nod hesitantly, and Mingi begins to speak.

“I apologise for my behaviour back then.” Your eyes widen in confusion at why he would say such a thing. Mingi has never done you any wrong, not in the whole time you’ve been on board this ship. Seeing your stunned expression, he quickly explains.

“Back then, when Yeosang got shot and Captain got whipped… I blamed you.”

Ahh, so that’s what he wanted to talk to you about. But part of you still doesn’t understand why he would be apologising to you.

“But you didn’t do anything to me.” You tell him, frowning a little. Unless he pulled a Hongjoong and threw something of yours away in secret, you can’t think of anything he could have done to you. Then you touch the necklace under your shirt carefully, suddenly irrationally afraid he might have done just that.

Mingi shakes his head. “No, I didn’t, but my attitude was wrong. I should have tried to understand, at the very least, even if I was worried about Hongjoongie-hyung. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

Once again, you’re stunned by how kind this crew can be. It’s true you’ve never spoken much to Mingi before, so you don’t know him very well, but you don’t think anyone would actually apologise for having wrong attitude.

“Of course.” Is all you manage to say. Mingi exhales in relief at that, as if a massive weight has just been lifted from his chest. You smile a little at him, realising that maybe under that tough looking exterior, Mingi is as soft as San’s plushies underneath.

“You’re really loyal to Captain, aren’t you?” You say softly under your breath, but Mingi hears anyway and nods without a second’s hesitation.

“We’ve been together since the beginning, even before he became the Captain of the Treasure. In a way, he saved my life before.” The quartermaster tells you and your eyes widen slightly.

“Really? How?”

“Before Hongjoong took over the Treasure, it was called the Arrow. It was captained by my uncle, who was working under the Royal Navy. Because Hongjoong-hyung has the blessing of a sea god on him, he was tied to our mast as a charm to ward away storms.” Mingi explains softly and your jaw drops, turning to stare at him. Your captain was tied up to a ship as a child?

“I was the cabin boy to my uncle at that time, so I brought him food and water.” Mingi reminisces the times of years ago, when Hongjoong was still a young boy, struggling to survive each day alone with his own strength. “He never stopped smiling, not even once, no matter how badly my uncle mistreated him or called him a sea monster in human’s skin. I remembered I was so stunned by how a person could continue to burn so bright that even the worst of storms couldn’t put him out.”

You know what he’s talking about. From the first time you met the captain, you’ve seen that fire blazing in his eyes, never giving up, never surrendering, never bowing to fate.

“Then one day, I think he snapped after seeing my uncle torture an errant ship mate. They keelhauled him to death and Hongjoong-hyung was never the same since.” Mingi murmurs softly and you frown, a little confused.

“Keelhauled?” You repeat after him and Mingi nods grimly.

“The act of tying a person to a rope and throwing him over the side of the ship, before pulling him against the barnacles of the heel. The person is usually torn to shreds because of this.” The quartermaster tells you and you can’t help but shiver at the description of such inhumane torture.

“Then there was a massive storm at sea. More than half the crew perished, so my uncle begged him to save them. He had mercy on them and piloted the ship safely out of the storm, but then demanded my uncle give the ship to him in payment for their lives. My uncle agreed… and here we are.”

You’re in shock after listening to that story. You weren’t aware that your captain had been through so many hardships before becoming the Pirate King of the Seven Seas. But there’s another question you feel like you need to ask.

“But… you all don’t really seem like bloodthirsty pirates, though.” You say hesitantly. “Why is Captain called the Pirate King? Why are so many people afraid of him?”

Mingi pauses in rocking back and forth absentmindedly, staring at the way the sun is dipping behind the waves. The sea and sand are red now with the light of the setting sun, making the place look like the remains of a battlefield, the water before you like a sea of blood.

“Before you knew us… Captain really wasn’t a nice person, you know?” Mingi says softly, lying back on the sand to look at the darkening sky. You pause, a little stunned. “I’m not going to sugar coat it. He may have been nice to those he considered his crew… but to anyone else? Those who met him never lived to tell the tale.”

You’re shocked. Your captain, Kim Hongjoong, the one who endured a whipping for you and the crew, the one who had promised Seonghwa to stay by him no matter the trouble, the one who had gone red just from a hug… had been such a cruel man?

“Wooyoung too, actually.” Mingi murmurs, shaking his head. You flinch at the name of the man who’d given you the pin you’re wearing in your hair. “He was a dangerous, dangerous man, to the point even I was afraid of him. Maybe you haven’t had a chance to see him when he’s in one of his… moods, but then again I pray you never have to see them.”

“But-” You try to argue, completely unable to see Hongjoong and Wooyoung as anything but your kind captain and mischievous partner in crime. Mingi cuts you off before you can say anymore.

“It’s not my story to tell. Anyway… I think they’ve been getting better, you know?” The quartermaster tells you quietly, just as the sun finally sinks beneath the waves. The sky is still lit by a little reddish glow, but you’re sure that will fade soon too. 

You bite your lower lip, still desperate to know what exactly Wooyoung and your Captain could be hiding behind their usual smiles, but then Mingi gets up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Anyway, Chin Hae, we should be getting back to the ship.” The quartermaster holds out a hand to help you off the ground and you take it, pulling yourself to your feet and dusting off the sand from your knees. You guess your many unanswered questions will have to wait until another day then.

The two of you walk back in companionable silence to the small town, stepping onto the brick lain ground once more. It’s a little late now, which explains the different air to the area, there are people in the streets dancing with each other with big smiles on their faces to several busking performances here and there, and the atmosphere makes you smile as well.

Until someone bumps into you.

“Ouch!” You say, turning around to see a young boy dressed in rags and barefoot. He’s skinny, probably a little malnourished, and he’s holding a small basket in hands filled with folded slips of paper.

You don’t know how your eyes immediately find him in the crowd, but you do. And you gasp in shock.

He grins brightly at you. “A treasure map for you, miss?”

Because his eyes are swirling with colours once again, blue, grey, brown, every shade in the world you can think of, except one that you just can’t help but feel like you’re missing. Just like that old man from before…

You force the thought away. This is no time to be thinking about that. Mingi frowns when he realises you’re no longer at his side and turns around to look for you.

“Chin Hae?”

“How much is one?” You ask, bending down to look at the young boy, trying not to show how much his eyes unnerve you yet trying to figure out exactly what colour his eyes are. The boy smiles in a way that only reminds you of your master, pure, innocent and utterly joyful.

“One silver!” He says and you reach into your pocket to pull out the coin.

But then the boy suddenly swipes the hairpin from your hair and makes a break for it, nimbly streaking past the partygoers and disappearing down a secluded alleyway, much to your horror.

“Hey!” You shout, completely forgetting about getting back to the ship and you dash after him, your feet flying over the cobbles. Mingi starts in surprise when he sees you tearing in the opposite direction you had been going and calls your name.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae, where you going?”

You don’t hear him over the sound of the guitar and singing. Instead, you focus on catching that damned street urchin in front of you, because you’d rather die a thousand times than lose the hairpin Wooyoung gave to you.

Happy Birthday, Chin Hae-ah.

You can’t lose that. No way in hell. You press on, chasing him out of town until your boots crunch against soft, dry sand and you’re pushing through a grove of trees, past the beach you had been to earlier with Mingi and even further beyond that.

You finally lose the boy when you stumble onto a small, craggy beach. The waves crash against the rocks at the shoreline, breaking the waves and turning the water white with seafoam, but you can’t be distracted by the beauty of the place now. You glance around, desperately trying to search for the boy who had stolen from you.

The beach is utterly empty except for you.

“Are you looking for me?”

You whirl around in shock, heart pounding in your chest to see the little boy from earlier standing there at the treeline. Somehow, you hadn’t even noticed him as you ran past him onto the beach. You flare up in anger at the calm, unruffled smile on his face, your hairpin in his hand and the basket of papers in the other.

“What are you trying to do, kid? Stealing from me? Seriously?” You spit, starting to march over to get your hairpin back, but his next words stun you right in your tracks.

“It’s the only way I could get us alone. This hairpin is precious to you, isn’t it?”

“What?” You aren’t quite sure if you heard him correctly, because if this kid had just told you he had stolen from you so you could be alone together, there must be something seriously wrong with him. Then fear wells up in you. Is he going to murder you and hide your body in the sand?

To your shock and anger, the little boy starts laughing, first with a hand over his mouth, then full belly laughs erupt deep from within. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but you don’t like it and your lips pull back into a snarl, your fingers twitching for the handle of your cutlass.

“Give my hairpin back and I might not be tempted to kill you.” You snap, but the boy, even though he’s unarmed, merely wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes with a hand before he looks at you once more.

“Well, I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, but I just wanted to be here with you again. It’s been so long, after all, since we were alone together.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

What?

“Wait… Wait…” You stumble over your words, not quite able to process his statement. Everything is whirling past you now, questions and words flooding your mind until you shut them up fiercely, forcing yourself to ask only one question at a time. “First of all, what do you mean by you made me come all the way here? As far as I know, an old man with weird eyes running a bookshop in Havana gave it to me…”

And then you trail off, because this young boy has the exact same eyes as that old man, various tones and tints flickering behind his serene gaze, never quite staying the same for long as if it cannot decide what colour to choose from. It hits you as hard as a battering ram, the air escaping from your lungs in a gasp.

“You’re… you’re in cahoots with that old man?” You breathe, but the little boy shakes his head with an amused smile.

“Yes and no.” He answers vaguely and for some reason, you feel like you aren’t going to get anymore answers from him about this. For a moment, you briefly wonder if you’re going crazy.

“Alright.” You mutter to yourself, wracking your mind desperately as you try to come up with answers. “How about you tell me why the hell you wanted us to be alone together?”

Then the boy meets your gaze calmly, and your eyes fly wide in shock.

Because his eyes are green.

You don’t know how to describe the exact shade they are. Green as fresh leaves in the spring, when the flowers begin to bloom and the sun kisses the earth with its gentle rays. Green as the moss that creeps over the trees in the cool air of morning, even before light touches it with wandering fingers. Green as emeralds forged deep within the heart of the earth. Green as the shoots of hope breaking out from the ashes of destruction.

Green as the eyes in your dreams.

What he is comes to your mind like an old, forgotten memory.

“******.”

But the word comes out as a muffled, unspeakable cry and your hand flies over your mouth. You had tried to speak his identity with your clumsy, human tongue, a word of so much power and majesty that no living mortal in this world would be able to say physically. Already, just from knowing it in your mind, you can feel a painful throbbing in your skull at how unworthy you are to stand in his presence, how insignificant you are compared to something like him, how powerless you are before him.

You crumple to your knees in the sand, the word echoing over and over in your head as if it’s taunting you with your inability to say it out loud. But you know it, you want to cry out so desperately, you want to call his name and return to his embrace where you belong, back to him.

Flashes of colour slam into your mind.

“Oh dear.” The boy shakes his head as he steps towards you. “It seems as if my presence here is bringing up memories in you that you can’t remember just yet.”

His fingers brush your temple and suddenly the painful pressure on your mind easens slightly, you hunch over on the beach, shaking from the agony you were experiencing just seconds ago. You’re gasping and panting from the pain of it, and suddenly, you can’t remember his name anymore.

Terror floods through you. Did he just-

“Ahh… I thought this island was small enough so my presence wouldn’t affect you too much, but I was wrong.” He steps back from you, but his voice is a little sad. “I’d better leave fast.”

Your eyes fly open, desperate to catch one last glimpse of his face, except that there is none.

His features shift and blend together and he now stands before you as a young man about your age. You can’t make out his face, every time you catch a glimpse of his nose or jaw it changes and the memory flees your mind. It’s terrifying, losing your memories the moment you make them. You desperately try to grab them, but they escape like smoke through your clenched fists.

“You were right, they didn’t understand and think that you’re trapped.” His green eyes are the only thing that you can keep your focus on. “They’ll try to bring you back to them at any cost, even if it ends in death.”

The word scares you like none other. Who doesn’t understand?

“But I’m glad you have a name now, Chin Hae. I told you, didn’t I? That I believed that you could make the right choices? Everything is working out according to plan.”

Shivers run across your entire body as something pounds desperately in your mind, screaming at you to remember. You’re terrified. What plan is he talking about? According to plan? What plan?

“I hope you’ll manage to see the witch. You’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

His words are starting to swirl together in your mind and you collapse onto your back, spasming involuntarily. Every part of your body is haywire, every thought running through your mind crashing here and there and you don’t know what to think anymore.

“Don’t forget, I’m with you every step of the way.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, before he stands and walks away from you to the treeline.

“Don’t go!” You want to scream, but you can’t move a muscle. The desire in you is so strong, so overwhelming that it swamps every other thought in you, the yearning taking over your body, so painful that it’s almost physical. Suddenly, there’s a tug in your gut and a rushing sound comes from behind you, from the ocean.

You close your eyes tight against the sea wave as it rushes inland.

A massive wave of seawater sweeps over you towards the man walking away, as if attempting to hold him back for you, but he simply turns to face the incoming tidal wave with a fond grin, completely devoid of fear.

Then he gives you one last smile, green eyes shining, and by the time he vanishes into the shadows of the trees, you’ve already forgotten his face. The waves pull away, slowly, regretfully as you lie there in the wet sand in shock, staring at the night sky above you.

“Chin Hae!”

Stars glittering like diamonds in the inky black sky.

Your heart stops for a moment.

White sand stretches before you, the roar of the ocean waves crashing on the rocks filling your ears.

Your eyes glance around you urgently, salt in your mouth. Your breath catches in your throat when you finally realise where you are.

It’s the beach from your dreams.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae! Are you alright?” Suddenly Mingi fills your vision as he supports you with strong arms, one finger coming up to your face as his eyes widen with horror. “Your nose is bleeding…”

You aren’t exactly in the right state of mind to answer him.

Mingi wipes it away, before glancing at you in a panic. “Chin Hae, what happened? Why did you suddenly run off like that?”

“Someone stole my hairpin…” You finally manage to croak out weakly, but that seems to pale in comparison with the sheer magnitude of what has just happened. Then you remember why exactly you had been so desperately chasing after that boy, how you had come to this place. “My hairpin!”

You force yourself up into a sitting position in spite of the exhaustion and the way every inch of your body screams in protest, only for your mouth to fall open in shock at what you see.

The wave from earlier must have destroyed everything, every tree on the beach has been violently felled, smaller patches vegetation like grass have been clean swept away. The trees have been smashed to driftwood, tiny broken pieces littered here and there. It looks like the disaster site of a tsunami, although how it happened, you have no idea.

How did you even survive?

Mingi helps you up as you attempt to stand on shaky, feeble legs, stumbling towards where the man had disappeared. Like a single silver flower blooming on the beach, you see your hairpin stuck upright in the sand, right where you had last seen him, surrounded by wreckage. You kneel before it, picking up the hairpin with trembling fingers and clutching it to your chest fiercely, tears of relief sliding down your cheeks.

But then you realise there’s something stuck to it.

You hold it out in confusion to see one of the little boy’s treasure maps pinned to it. You stretch a hand out, brushing your fingers along it in shock.

It’s dry.

Your mind finally gives up on trying to make sense of everything and you crash to the ground, exhausted beyond imagination. You can hear Mingi flapping around in the background, clearly in a panic, but you don’t have an ounce of strength to reassure him that you’re not dead.

Your eyes slide shut.

Just for a bit.

You’re back at the beach again, but this time the stars are a little brighter, the water a little more crystalline, the sand smooth and pearly under your fingertips. The man with the green eyes is still standing before you with the knife in hand once more, the sharp tip pressed against your chest.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He vows.

The blade sinks into your chest.

But there is no pain, no blood. Your skin and flesh merely comes apart cleanly, the clay vessel built for you is in no way powerful enough, even if it was built by the sea witch and infused with as much magic as a physical item can hold.

He opens up the empty cavern that is your chest, and puts down the knife. You look down at it, a poor substitute for a human body, but then he raises up something in his hands.

A heart of clay.

You blink at him in surprise. “What is this?”

“I can’t complete your trial for you, but I can give you this.” He places it in your chest gently, before pressing both hand over the gaping hole. You feel the clay mending itself back together, the hole in your chest closing.

You stare at him for a long, silent moment.

Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You gasp and air rushes into your lungs for the first time in your existence, you feel the wind on your cheeks and the smooth clay of your body turning into warm skin and flesh, you can feel the blood rushing in your veins. There was powerful, powerful magic in that heart that now resides in your chest, pumping blood through your body.

A sob tears itself from your chest.

“Thank you.” You whisper, feeling your breath escape you with each word. “Thank you so much.”

He merely smiles at you fondly, reaching up to brush your hair from your face. “It’s only temporal, so you need to do this fast, alright? If not…”

Suddenly his voice fades in and out, here but not quite, sounding from all around you.

You want to take his hand and ask him what exactly will happen, but then the dream vanishes into thin air, leaving nothing but white noise behind.

“…Y** *i** *et*** *o **a*.”


	35. Jump

You’re standing on the forecastle deck of the ship, watching as bow slices through the waves.

The ship skims over the choppy waters smoothly, but you’re so lost in thought you don’t even notice how some of the boys are lingering at the forecastle deck stairs, glancing at you worriedly as they speak in hushed voices.

You haven’t said a word since you woke up from unconsciousness a day ago, heading straight to Captain’s cabin and begging him to let you travel to the spot the map indicated. Hongjoong hadn’t hesitated to agree, but he couldn’t help but be concerned at the heavy look on your face, as if there was a massive weight on your shoulders.

Confusion settles on your mind like sea fog that refuses to lift. You have so many unanswered questions that confuse you to no end.

Golems were supposed to be made out of clay, but you were made of flesh and blood. You didn’t know how it was possible, perhaps the heart that the man had given you in your dreams did truly change you into a human being, but then why would he do so?

He warned you about something… How they didn’t understand? Who was they? You remembered from your dreams your previous self had said something about not telling them because they wouldn’t understand, but who was they and why would they not understand? Why would they think you were trapped?

What was the plan he had been talking about? Did your previous self agree to something with him? And why was he so happy that you had gotten a name? Your previous self must have had a name as well. How did he make you forget what he was? He…

Then you pause in confusion at your own train of thought.

What he is… not his name.

Why did you think such a weird thing?

“Chin Hae?”

You’re startled out of your thoughts to see your master standing at your side, Yunho and Wooyoung trailing behind him like lost puppies. The air is starting to get cold, you realise, and you shiver a little. Wooyoung takes your hand and puts it in his pocket, fingers stroking soothingly along the back of your hand.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-hyung.” You say. The head gunner is obviously worried, but he forces his face into a cute pout as he looks at your unbound hair flying with the wind, one hand reaching up to brush the errant strands from your forehead.

“You’ve stopped wearing the hairpin.” He says a little sadly as his hand falls back to his side, the shackles on his wrists jingling slightly. You feel guilty for a moment, fingers brushing the hairpin where it’s secured in your belt once more.

“Yeah… after that kid stole it, I’m not sure I dare to wear it in my hair. I can’t afford to lose it.” You tell him and he gives you an uneasy smile, torn between understanding why you want to keep it safe and wanting to see you wear it. Before he can say anything more though, Yunho glances at the expanse of sea before you.

“We’re reaching soon, aren’t we?” His voice is unusually grim. You can see the sky starting to darken, way too fast for it to be any sort of natural storm. The sea waves are starting to get more choppy and rough, and the deck is pitching and rolling more dangerously than what you’re used to. San almost loses his balance at one violent heave of the deck but Yunho catches him with the reflexes of a cat, sharp eyes focusing on what lies ahead.

Sharp, rocky outcrops break the horizon just slightly, black shapes jutting out from the sea. You swallow nervously as you glimpse the lightning flashing above head, before the rolling thunder startles you into a jump. Wooyoung steadies you by the arms before you pitch yourself into the sea in fright, wincing himself against the volume of it. It sounds like cannonfire right next to your head and for a moment, your ears ring as if there are bells swinging back and forth in your skull.

San gulps as he looks forward. “So… that’s the sea witch’s lair, huh?”

“Yes.” Yeosang answers from behind and all four of you whirl around to look at the navigator, who’s just joined you on the forecastle deck, boots stepping unevenly on the deck as he fights to keep his balance. He grips the railing tight, surveying the jagged rocks before you with a grim expression. “I can’t believe that map was right. No one has ever made such a detailed map of the sea witch’s lair before.”

You chew your lower lip as you recall who exactly had given you the map. Who on earth is that mysterious man? How did he know where the sea witch’s lair would be? How can he change form, from a man to a boy? What exactly is he?

“Only people in great desperation can find the sea witch, as her lair lies hidden in a magical realm of the sea in which mortals cannot find. The entrance is rumoured to be off the coast of several uninhabited islands in the Atlantic, guarded by the sirens and fierce tidal straits rip through the waters, smashing any ship that dares pass through.” Yeosang recites from memory, fingers tightening around the bulwarks. You can see the muscles in his shoulders wound tight from nerves. “Well… this definitely fits the description.”

You’re terrified too.

Wooyoung squeezes your hand tightly. We’ll be fine.

You nod, trying to calm your racing heart.

I hope so.

The island draws closer and suddenly tumultuous winds are whipping around the ship, unbridled and unchecked like wild horses, causing the ship to heave to the side. Your heart drops in your chest as you hear the creaking of the main mast and you whirl around to stare at it in horror.

“Wooyoung, Yunho, Chin Hae, to the ropes! Lower the mainsail before our mast breaks!” You hear Mingi shout over the storm gale, and just when you open your mouth to answer him, you taste rainwater on your tongue.

You glance upwards in shock and the heavens open, rain slashing down upon you and drenching you to the bone in mere seconds. The ship pitches and rocks side to side like a toy boat being tossed about on the waves, but Wooyoung manages to catch onto the bulwarks, pulling you into his chest.

San isn’t so lucky, however. Your mouth opens in a scream as you watch your master nearly get tossed over the side to the waves before Yunho catches him by the back of the shirt. Relief floods you, but you know this storm is far from over.

“Thank you!” San screams over the sharp whistling of the wind, but Yunho shakes his head grimly, sopping wet hair plastered to his forehead.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He says in a sombre tone, face just as dark as the sky above him. He turns to you and Wooyoung. “Can you two manage the sails while I make sure San and Yeosang get to the sickbay safe?”

Wooyoung nods, body swaying with the violent movements of the ship. “We got it.”

You see the navigator clinging onto the railing, much like you and Wooyoung are, shivering from the freezing winds. Yunho grabs Yeosang by the scruff of the neck as well, holding two humans under his arm as he drags them down the forecastle deck stairs.

Then the ship pitches wildly once more out of nowhere and you hear a crash on the main deck, followed by shouts of pain and surprise from Yunho, Yeosang and San. You wince in sympathy.

“Ouch.”

Wooyoung shakes his head, yanking you forward by the arm. “Now’s not the time to worry about that!” The two of you dash across the deck, slipping and sliding on the wet floorboards and struggling to stay on your feet from the bucking motions of the ship, but you eventually reach the main mast, panting for breath.

Your partner glances back at you as his hands secure themselves tightly to the rigging. “You alright, Chin Hae-”

But before he can finish his squestion, the ship is rolled by a mountainous wave. A wall of water crashes into your body and you feel as if you’ve been punched by a giant fist, for a moment you briefly wonder if the ship has already capsized as you’re submerged in the sea. Through the chaos and unearthly, ghostly screams you hear, your fingers cling on tight to the rigging, refusing to let go.

If you do let go, you’re dead.

Then the water falls away and you’re gasping for air like a fish out of the sea, completely exhausted from the experience as you wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve and spit seawater from your mouth. The deck floods and foams with water and you see several other of your crew mates struggling to gain their bearings as they recover from the massive wave.

“The sea witch’s magic must be interfering with Captain’s blessing.” Wooyoung spits, before he reaches over and shakes you. “Chin Hae, we need to get to furl the mainsail! Hurry!”

You snap out of your shock from the near death experience and immediately begin scaling the rigging as fast as you can. Hand over hand, you fall into the familiar motion of climbing the mast, even if this time the ropes are whipping around beneath you. Wooyoung is much faster, sliding up the ropes with so much ease he looks like he’s gliding, but even you can see the way his knuckles are clenched tight, the tight set of his jaw shows you the strain he’s under.

When he reaches the top, he reaches down to help you up, and then the two of you are clinging to the main mast as it swings about violently in the wind.

If you thought the deck had been pitching around like mad, it was nothing compared to the top of the mast. For a moment, nausea crests in you and you nearly throw up, but then you force it down and glance at Wooyoung.

He shouts something, but it’s lost over the roar of the storm. You see another wave crest over the ship and sweep across the deck, nearly washing a man overboard. Your captain stands at the wheel, battling the fierce undercurrents as he fights to keep the ship on course.

The sea is black and boiling beneath you, white froth outlining the massive waves as they pummel the ship from all directions. You’ve never seen the ocean act this way in all your time at sea, but then again, this must be the fearsome work of the witch.

“-hin Hae! Chin Hae!” You hear Wooyoung’s voice and glance at him, his face is pale and bloodless but his jaw is set in determination. “We’ve got to undo the ropes! You take one side and I’ll take the other!”

You nod grimly.

Then the two of you move to the halyards, knowing that you have to unsnag the ropes caught there to drop the sail. The wind howls in your ears, blocking out all sound, but you focus on your goal and continue inching towards the block and tackle, drawing a short knife from your belt to cut the rope free.

Your fingers are numb from the cold and from terror, but you put the blade’s edge against the rope and saw as fast as you can. The wind tugs at you and your clothes, a thousand invisible hands trying to pull you into the sea. You can only brace yourself the best you can and continue your work, to your elation, you feel the fibres snapping one by one beneath the knife.

Finally, the rope splits and the yardarm drops, the sail furling of its own accord. You and Wooyoung meet each other’s eyes and exchange sighs of relief, but it’s short lived.

Because the ship is hit by another massive wave, bigger than the first two, and you’re jerked off the yardarm.

For a moment, you’re suspended in mid air. The ship. The sky. The sail. The sea. They all swirl around you as you plummet down, and in your ears, like a distant cry, you can hear Wooyoung scream your name.

“Chin Hae!”

Then something catches you roughly by the shirt and drags you into the rigging, which your hands instinctively grab onto, your heart racing a million miles an hour as you try to snap out of your shock.

“You’re lucky I caught you!” Yunho shouts over the roar of the wind, clinging onto the ropes right next to you. You barely manage a nod, still lacking the capacity of mind to form words to thank him properly for saving your life. You’ll be grateful later.

“Let’s get down.” The battlemaster calls and you nod, desperate to get back to the relative safety of the deck. You slide down the ropes as fast as you can, holding onto them desperately. Your feet touch wood and it takes every ounce of self control not to kiss the deck out of sheer happiness.

Then Wooyoung is next to you and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly as you finally start to sob, your tears mixing with the rain until you can’t tell which is which, he whispers soothing words into your ears as his hand strokes your hair. Yunho joins the two of you, hugging both of you to his chest, glad that you’re both alive.

All of a sudden, the storm stills.

It’s as if someone has cut off everything. The rain stops instantly, the wind stills, the sea is no longer trying to capsize the ship, even if they are still battering it from all sides. For some reason, this unnerves you more than the storm itself, because who could possibly have the power to control the seas at their mere will?

“What’s happening?” Yunho breathes, letting go of the two of you to survey the surroundings for a moment. The rocky island is growing ever closer, and from here, you now see it’s the entrance of a massive cave in the middle of the ocean.

The sea witch’s lair.

There’s murmurs of relief around you as the crew almost collapse onto the deck, exhausted from their battle against the ocean. They’ve only survived because of the ocean’s mercy, not because they were strong enough to be victorious over it.

The ocean is truly terrifying.

You hear the click of your captain’s boots as he descends from the quarterdeck, studying the seas before them. His mullet is plastered to the back of his neck from the rain and his red jacket is soaked, but his eyes are still gleaming fiercely as he fixes his eyes on the island. A scowl twists on his face.

A curse escapes him.

“Why the long face, captain?” Yunho nudges him worriedly. Usually the battlemaster says that as a joke, but he can feel the tension in the air even without his captain speaking. Hongjoong clenches his jaw and you lean forward, wanting to know exactly why your captain is so on edge.

“Yunho, go to my cabin and get the earplugs.”

At that, Wooyoung stiffens behind you as he glances at the sea in horror. You whirl to face him, utterly confused at why you would need to plug your ears. “Wooyoung, what is it?”

You don’t think he could look more venomous if he tried.

“Sirens.”

Yunho runs back to his captain, distributing all the earplugs in a small bag. Wooyoung takes his, turning to explain to you fully as he puts one earplug in. “We’ve encountered sirens once, before you joined us. They’re dangerous creatures, with seductive bodies and fish tails that lay in wait for sailors on rocky shores. They don’t usually physically attack people, but they sing with hypnotic voices to entice people into jumping overboard and swimming for them, before the sea pulls them under and they drown.”

You shudder at the description of them as you place one earplug in. “And so these earplugs are to stop us from hearing their voices?”

Wooyoung nods grimly. “It’s going to be difficult to sail the ship like this, but it’s miles better than having us drown.”

You glance at your captain, who strides over to you and Wooyoung. “Are the two of you alright?” He checks in with the two of you, eyes softening slightly as he glances over your exhausted faces. Wooyoung nods when Hongjoong pats him on the shoulder gently.

“We’re fine.”

You realise he doesn’t have any earplugs of his own and fear runs through you at the thought of your captain being lost to the waves. “Captain, what about your earplugs?”

At that, Hongjoong manages a small smile, shaking his head. “Maybe it’s my blessing… but the sirens’ calls don’t affect me. Don’t worry about me.”

With that, he turns and moves back to the center of the deck.

You swallow nervously, glancing up at the brewing black sky above you. The deck is pitching back and forth violently, the waves beneath you brutally battering the sides of the ship as if trying their best to sink you and drag you to the bottom of the sea.

But that’s the least of your worries.

“Remember, everyone!” Your captain shouts over the howling of the wind fiercely, eyes stony with determination. “No one is to remove their earplugs until I give you the signal, alright?”

“Yes captain!” The crew responds with a resounding agreement before all of them plug their ears and move to man their stations, all intent on surviving this sea against all odds.

You glance towards the sea before you, right before the earplugs block out all sound from your ears.

A jewel green tail breaks the surface of the water, right before it disappears once more beneath the waves. They might look beautiful, but they remind you of sharks circling their prey right before a kill.

Fear seizes your chest as you clutch onto Wooyoung’s hand tightly.

I’m scared.

He doesn’t respond, pulling you into him and burying your face into his shoulder.

I know.

You can see them now, men and women with jewel toned tails flickering in the seas, diving beneath the waves and splashing around playfully. Their faces are ethereal, inhumanly beautiful, their vibrantly coloured hair pinned back with delicate seashells and pearls. Their sheer beauty is out of this world, and when they open their mouth, part of you just can’t help but wish you could hear such gorgeous creatures sing.

But Wooyoung grips your hand before you can move, shaking his head and snapping you out of your daze.

No.

You exhale nervously, nodding as you hold on tight to the ropes. You realise how dangerous these sirens actually are, you couldn’t even hear their voices and yet they were already seducing you to your death. Yunho pulls on Wooyoung’s shoulder to get his attention and gestures to a tackle that is trapped against a mast, causing the sail to flap unevenly in the wind.

Wooyoung nods once, before glancing at you in concern.

Can you handle yourself?

You nod determinedly. You’re on guard now. You’ll be fine.

Wooyoung reluctantly lets your hand go, before moving to scale the mizzenmast with Yunho to fix the sail.

You close your eyes against the sight of the beautiful sirens before you, resolute on not moving an inch until this entire thing is over and your captain comes to get you himself. There is no sound in your ears, nothing in your sight, and for a second, you’re relieved.

Nothing can possibly get you here.

Come back to us.

A voice, as sweet as sugar and as smooth as silk echoes in your mind. You jump a little in shock, eyes flying wide open as you glance about you, searching for whoever had said those words.

Please, we miss you so much.

A shiver runs down your spine. It’s another voice this time, just as honeyed as the voice before, caressing your ears gently like a lover’s kiss. You know that voice. You know all of their voices.

But Wooyoung and Captain said-

Who’s Wooyoung? And a captain? You bow to nobody.

Warmth seeps into your bones despite the freezing winds and it’s as if every thought in your mind has been erased into nothingness.

Everything fades into a gentle, pleasant haze as you await their next words.

Take off those human things and hear our voices in the air, love.

As if in a trance, your fingers rise to your ears.

The ocean roar fills your ears once more, the sound of the waves and the sky swirling above you like a reunited friend. You see the sirens in the ocean before you, smiling with the richest, most beautiful smiles you have ever seen, their mouths opening once more.

“Come to us.”

“We love you.”

“Return to us, our pearl.”

“Our queen.”

“Our treasure.”

Their voices blend together into an unearthly harmony, so beautiful and rich that it sinks into your mind and empties out every other thought. They call for you so desperately, with so much longing and yearning, you can feel yourself being pulled to them.

Wait, you want to tell them as they sing once more for you and only you. I’m coming.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

You walk towards the side of the ship in a daze, boots tapping lightly against the floorboards. The earplugs falls to the deck and roll away under your feet, but you don’t care.

“Come.”

You hear someone behind you cry out ‘Chin Hae’ faintly, but it doesn’t register in your head, merely blowing across your ears like the wind. You merely falter a little in your tracks, pausing slightly.

Chin Hae?

“No such human name is worthy of you.” The voices shift and rolls like the gentle waves of the sea, beseeching you to continue to move forward and you do.

You reach the railing of the ship, swinging one leg over the balustrade as the sirens swimming under you smile so sweetly. You hang from the railing, feet just balancing on the outer hull of the ship as you sway with the wind, staring at the sea beneath you.

“Chin Hae!” The voice is louder, more desperate this time, but your eyes are fixed on the sirens, their hypnotic jewel like eyes drawing you in.

“Jump.”

And you do.


	36. Saved

You plunge into the sea.

For a moment, you twist in the endless expanse of water, arms flailing about as icy cold sea yank every bit of of heat from you. Panic erupts in you as you open your mouth to cry out in shock, but then the same voices from before ring in your ears, more clearly this time underwater.

“Yes…”

“Come to us…”

Your head breaks the surface of the waves and you swim as hard as you can for the sirens’ call. The sea, previously unrelenting, seems to calm just for you, leaving you an easy path right towards the sirens’ rock.

One of them, with a long jeweled tail sparkling in pearly shades of rose and tangerine, reaches a hand out for you, the smile on her face radiant as the rising sun. Two of the sirens at her side with flickering aquamarine tails slide into the water smoothly and swim with the grace of a swan to your side, like dolphins they circle you.

You’re lost in the yearning of their gaze, in complete ignorance the roar of the storm above you and the way the sea is heaving all around you. You are captured by the way their own eyes are a deep sea blue, an endless, infinite depth to them.

Then they attack.

One of the sirens lunge for you, cutting straight through the water like a shark. She clings onto your arm and bites down hard on the skin there, it breaks and pain floods through you, wiping the spell from your mind completely.

What are you doing here?

Suddenly desperate, you thrash about in the water, striking the siren hard in the face and she falls back into the water with a furious screech, her beautiful features twisted with fury and hate. You manage to feel a small bit of elation at having fended her off, but the joy at your success doesn’t last very long.

The other siren speeds towards you like a sword cutting through the waves, his teeth bared in a snarl. To your horror, you can see fangs in his mouth, each razor sharp and perfectly capable of chomping through your arm in a matter of seconds.

There’s no way you can fight something like that off. Instinctively, you raise your arms to protect your face and your eyes squeeze tight, unwilling to look at your own death in the eye as you await the teeth to sink into you.

But it never comes.

Instead, there’s the sound of a gunshot and you feel something warm splatter across your face.

Your eyes fly open in shock, only to see the face of the siren who was about to chew right through your neck in a single bite mere inches from yours. Then you see the musket ball buried in the centre of his forehead, still smoking as a thin stream of clear, warm liquid trails from the hole, his startled blue eyes staring right into yours like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

And then his entire body crumbles right before your eyes, melting into seafoam and disappearing with the waves.

The other siren screams and lunges for you once more but she’s shot down as well in a matter of seconds. There must be a deadly sharpshooter on the Treasure, because each shot is precise and measured, not a second too late or early. You struggle against the waters, trying to swim back to the ship, but then the siren with the orange tail slides into the sea as well, gliding towards you on the waves with a malevolent gleam in her eye.

Fear shoots through your body. Are you going to die here?

Then a pair of warm arms wrap around you, pulling you protectively against his chest. The blade of a cutlass scythes down at your side, cutting through the arm of the blonde siren as she reaches for you.

The limb falls into the water with a sickly splash.

You shut your eyes tight against the sight, from the sound alone your stomach heaves and now isn’t really the time to be throwing up. Instead, you turn to glance at your saviour, expecting perhaps Yunho or Wooyoung, but your eyes widen from shock when you see exactly who it is.

It’s your captain himself.

“Stay back!” He snarls at the siren, one arm still holding you protectively to him as he treads water, keeping the two of you afloat. The raging sea around you stills at once, falling obedient to the blessing of the sea god upon your captain.

The siren hisses back at your captain as one hand comes up to the empty socket where her arm used to be, clear water gushing from the wound. The threat on her face is clear, from the way her deep blue eyes flicker with raw, primal fury and her fangs resemble those of a venomous snake’s.

“Let her go, you accursed mortal!”

Her voice is more of a demonic rasp now, nothing like the enchanting songbird you had heard earlier, but you understand the words all the same.

Startled shock runs through you. From what you’ve gathered by listening to Wooyoung, the sirens tempt people into the seas with honeyed voices, luring them to their deaths by having them drown in the ocean. But why would are the sirens so fixated on trying to physically attack you instead?

You can see the fight being waged behind her eyes, torn between the desire to rip you from your captain’s arms and rip your body to shreds yet being restrained by something, whether physical or mental you don’t know, but you’re very grateful for it.

Hongjoong begins swimming backwards with you still in his arms, dragging you with him like a sack of wet clothes. The siren moves forward then hesitates, undiluted anger and pain in her eyes as she watches the two of you move further and further from her reach. 

She decides to play her last hand.

“If she stays with you, she’ll die!”

Your heart drops in your chest. The storm around you seems to die away, the wind falling silent as that one sentence reverberates in your mind like a chant.

What?

You can feel your captain almost stop moving, hesitant. But then he shakes his head and continues swimming hard for the ship, hands wrapping tight around a rope dangling from the portside and tying both of you to it.

You’re lifted from the sea excruciatingly slowly, your eyes still fixed on the siren. Her gaze never leaves your, a silent plea, fingers of her one remaining hand reaching out for you.

“Please.”

And then you’re back on deck, Seonghwa bustling around the two of you with dry towels as water drips from your clothes onto the deck. You’re shivering, hands and fingers turning pale and bloodless from the cold, blood gushing from your upper arm. You must be flying high as a kite on adrenaline because you feel no pain except for a numbing sensation slowly creeping its way up your limbs, but then your master is rushing to you with a thick cloth to stem the bleeding while Seonghwa dries your hair.

You glance behind you to see Wooyoung at the railing with a flintlock rifle pointed straight into the water beneath, green eyes sharp with focus like you’ve never seen before. He’s as still as a statue, so motionless you would think he’d turned to stone if it weren’t for the way his chest is rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. The intensity of his gaze is enough to send a shiver down your spine, and even though his face is completely emotionless for the first time you’ve seen it, you can feel the murderous aura radiating from him like heat from a wildfire.

He must have been the one who shot those two sirens.

For a second, you’re reminded of Mingi’s words to you on that beach a few days earlier, words that you couldn’t bring yourself to believe back then.

“He was a dangerous, dangerous man, to the point even I was afraid of him.”

At first, you had merely brushed the description of your mischievous best friend aside as exaggeration. Playful? Sure. A little mean spirited? Well, maybe. But dangerous? Of course not.

But now?

You almost can’t recognise him, and that scares you.

Your captain is heaving for breath as he gets to his feet unsteadily, almost falling over as Yunho supports him by the arm. All of them still have their earplugs in, and with a quick glance at the forecastle deck, you confirm that he’s standing at the wheel steering the ship in place of your captain.

And from the look he gives you, you’re in line for a tongue lashing.

Hongjoong’s one green eye snaps over to you fiercely and you flinch, suddenly fully aware of the gravity of what you’ve you’ve done. You just took off your earplugs after your captain intently ordered you not to at all costs, dived straight into the embrace of man killing monsters and had risked your captain’s own life in the process.

Your head bows of its own accord in shame.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to croak out, feeling your eyes starting to get damp. Seonghwa and San obviously can’t hear the apology as they continue to treat your wound without missing a beat, but your captain continues to stare at you with an intense look on his face.

“Why?”

His voice is stern, not mad like you had expected it to be, and you raise your head to look at him in surprise. He meets your gaze evenly, repeating his question one more time.

“Why did you take your earplugs out?”

At that, you frown in confusion yourself. Thinking back, you were very sure that you had your earplugs in securely, you couldn’t hear a sound after you had put them in. Yet, when you had closed your eyes after Wooyoung had left with Yunho to fix the sail, you had…

Shock descends upon you as you realise exactly what had happened.

You had heard their voices in your head.

As much as you’re glad to have made the discovery that it wasn’t entirely your fault, you’re equally scared about what it might mean. Just like that monster from earlier, right when you had joined the ship… you had heard their calls in your mind… but how?

“They’ll try to bring you back to them at any cost, even if it ends in death.”

Were those sirens… the ones who didn’t understand? Why were they trying to kill you?

“Captain…” You ask suddenly, having forgotten his question a while ago. “The monster that I spotted when I first joined the ship… what was it?”

Your voice is surprisingly steady and Hongjoong frowns at the abrupt change in topic as he sheds the red jacket, freeing his arms. “From Yeosang’s books, I believe it was called the Kraken. A mythical beast rumoured to be a servant of the sea goddess. You had good eyesight, that’s how you spotted it, isn’t it?”

“No…” You trail off in a whisper, terror sinking deep in your chest. You had thought that your identity problem had been more or less cleared up when Yeosang had found out that you were a golem, but it seems a bit more complicated than that. “I… I heard it’s voice in my head. Just like how I heard those sirens even though my ears were plugged.”

Your captain’s eye narrows at your words in disbelief. “You… heard their voices? In your head?”

Barely managing a nod, you stare back at Hongjoong. “What… what am I?”

Your voice breaks at the last word and you’re fighting to keep yourself from hyperventilating. All this is too much, too crazy. Who are you? What are you? Why were the sirens trying to kill you? What are you trapped in? And that siren… she said…

“If she stays with you, she’ll die.”

“Die?”

You didn’t want to die.

Gasps force their way from your chest in shaky, uneven pants as you shiver uncontrollably from the fear. Your captain immediately steps forward, putting both hands on your shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly. Seonghwa and San must sense something in wrong, because they both pull away to stare at you in abject concern, your master eyeing Hongjoong as if trying to communicate without words.

Your captain ignores him, looking you in the eye seriously. His gaze burns bright green.

“I won’t let you die.” Hongjoong says solemnly. You can feel the weight of every word that leaves his lips, and deep within you, you know it is something more than a comforting phrase, more than just lip service to get you to calm down. He truly means every word he says.

Then you nod, because as much as some part of you knows it’s impossible to keep such a promise, you want to trust him. Your fear suddenly fades away, like his words are some sort of magic spell, and you’re stunned to find you’re breathing normally once more, shoulders relaxing under his touch.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?” San asks you earnestly even though he can’t hear you, concern shining in his eyes as he shakes you a little. You nod back at your master, trying to convey that you’re fine and he wraps you in a shaky hug, not even bothering to ask for an explanation why you jumped into the sea in the first place.

Hongjoong gestures for Seonghwa to remove his earplugs.

The cook finally does so, sighing in relief when he can hear once again. Then he turns to wave at the rest of the crew, signalling that it’s safe, and all of them begin to remove their earplugs, shoulders slumping when they realise that they’re finally out in the clear.

Only Wooyoung remains unmoving at the bulwarks, rifle still fixed at the sea, green eyes unblinking. There’s something dark in his gaze that unnerves you, but you remind yourself that this is gentle, sweet Wooyoung, who risked his life to save you back on Nassau, who gave you the hairpin you treasure so greatly.

You rise to your feet, intending to tap him on the shoulder and tell him that it’s over, but then Hongjoong grabs you firmly by the wrist before you can take a step forward.

You turn to look at him in confusion.

Your captain shakes his head grimly. “Wooyoung’s in a… mood… right now. It’s better if you don’t catch him by surprise.”

Your heart sinks in your chest.

Hongjoong must see your expression, because he simply turns you around by the shoulders and steers you towards the sickbay, telling San to accompany you and heal your arm. “Leave me to it, alright, Chin Hae?”

And you nod, because you can’t refuse your captain, and you throw one last glance over your shoulder as you leave.

Just as the door shuts behind you, there’s the sound of a musket shot.


	37. The Cave

You step onto dry land and for the first time in your life, you’re not sure whether you want to kiss it or hightail back to the ship screaming.

The rocks are slippery and slimy beneath your boots, the stone worn away by the ages and the unrelentless sea. You nearly slip and fall flat on your face, but Seonghwa is faster and manages to catch you right before you can faceplant the ground.

“Careful.” He mutters softly, clearly on edge as the rest of the crew are. The tension in the air is so thick you could cut through it with your cutlass, you can see it in their tightly wound shoulders, how their hands are resting on their cutlasses, as if ready for a threat to spring at them from any second.

Only six people have disembarked the Treasure with you. Seonghwa and San, who have been with you in investigating this mystery from the very beginning, your captain and Mingi, who refuses to let him go into the unknown without him and finally Jongho and Yunho as your guards.

But Wooyoung…

Ever since you had heard the sound of that musket shot, you had been on edge, worry for Wooyoung looming in your mind. What had happened? What did your captain mean by ‘mood’? You had wanted to run out of the sickbay to see exactly what had happened, but then San had wrenched you back by the arm, a grim look in his eyes as he gazed at the door forlornly.

You stared at him in shock and confusion.

“Master-”

“Let Hongjoong-hyung handle this.” San had murmured softly, shaking his head, but his words were indisputable. When you had opened your mouth to protest, your master had added on, in a quieter voice. “Wooyoungie… he wouldn’t want you to see him like this.”

That had just made you even more worried about him, the anxious butterflies in your stomach were more like angry pigeons now, tearing you up from the inside. Even after the ship had dropped anchor at the rocky outcrop that was supposedly the entrance to the lair of the sea witch and you’d finally stepped onto the main deck once more, you hadn’t spotted that head of vibrant purple hair anywhere.

Seonghwa had reassured you Yeosang was staying with him to calm him down while the rest of you left the ship to meet the sea witch. For a moment, you had wondered if Seonghwa and San were conspiring to give you a heart attack, because all they were doing was getting you more and more perturbed.

If even Yeosang had to be involved, what exactly had happened to Wooyoung?

“Chin Hae?” Hongjoong’s voice comes from somewhere in front of you, and you raise your head in surprise to see him glancing at you over his shoulder. He’s already standing in front of the cave entrance, a lighted torch in hand. The other guys have joined him as well, all waiting expectantly for you. “Let’s go.”

Well, even if you feel like you’re about to chew through your entire lip in worry, there really isn’t much you can do now. You turn back to look at the ship one last time, hoping your thoughts will somehow reach Wooyoung even from here, before you move towards the cave entrance, Jongho helping you up the last set of slippery rocks.

You’re about to see a witch.

You honestly don’t know what to expect from this. All you know is that you’ve made a deal with the sea witch, one that likely gave the body of a golem and erased all your memories in the process. At the very least, she might have some answers for you regarding your identity. It’s got to be more than whatever you have right now.

The opening to the cave is large, tall enough that even Yunho wouldn’t hit his head on the ceiling and wide enough to fit four men abreast comfortably. But it is dark and creepy, and from the way Mingi’s teeth are chattering loud enough for the sound to echo around the cave, he’s completely terrified.

Seonghwa turns to look at the quartermaster with a genuinely concerned frown. “Mingi-ah, you don’t have to come with us. We know you’re scared about this kind of thing.”

Hongjoong nods agreement. The dim light from the torch flickers and bounces off the walls eerily, casting strange, shifting shapes shadows on the slick walls and making your captain’s face appear to be a ghostly apparition floating in the air.

And you’re still only at the mouth of the cave, where daylight is still streaming in from behind you.

You don’t know how far in the cave is, but from the way that you still can’t see the end, it’s probably very, very far in.

Mingi looks like a spooked rabbit, ready to bolt his way out of the cave as fast as he can, but he stands firm, well, as firmly as he can with his knees knocking every few seconds. He meets his captain’s eyes evenly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’d follow you anywhere, Captain. Even into the depths of hell.”

You’re stunned by how devoted Mingi is to his captain, before you remember that the quartermaster had told you himself that he had grown up with Hongjoong by his side. His whole life has been dedicated to serving his captain in every way possible, the two of them closer than brothers in blood by the history they have written and the memories they have forged together.

Hongjoong smiles fondly, standing on tiptoes to pat the taller man on the shoulder. Mingi towers over his captain in height, but lowers himself to see his captain eye to eye as Hongjoong shakes his head.

“You know I don’t need you to come with me, Mingi.” Hongjoong tries to reassure him, but from the defeated smile on your captain’s face, he already knows what his lifelong friend is about to say.

“But I want to.” Mingi insists like petulant child, crossing his arms. “I can be brave-”

Then there’s the sound of something falling behind you and all of you flinch, but then Mingi shrieks and jumps into the air as if he’s on fire, clinging onto Jongho fiercely. The poor battlemaster claws at the long arms locked around his throat, flailing about like a jellyfish attempting to escape a net.

“Ack! Mingi-hyung! Song Mingi! Let me go! I’m dying-” The last word is cut off into a screech when the two of them topple over like a felled tree, crashing heavily to the rocky ground is a mess of long limbs. Seonghwa squawks in horror, the resident mother hen of the Treasure flapping around them in concern while the actual healer just bursts into uncontrollable giggles in the back.

You give your master an evil side eyed glare but San continues wheezing from laughter, his infectious chortles eventually pulling in the rest of the group as well. Seonghwa bends over the two of them to see if they’re hurt, but apart from the groaning coming from the ground, they seem to be fine.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Mingi grunts as he manages to get to his feet. Jongho sways behind him unsteadily, rubbing the bruise on his back with a playful scowl.

“Thanks, hyung.” The maknae mumbles dryly and Mingi automatically answers “you’re welcome”, much to your amusement.

To your relief, the earlier fear and tension has eased a little with their clumsy accident. You’re still terrified of walking to your potential death, but now, with them at your side, it feels a little easier to breathe.

Then you remember Wooyoung and for a lingering moment, you desperately wish he were here with you. Your pocket feels too large for only one hand, and there just isn’t the same warmth there without his. You sigh, turning back towards the darkness that lies ahead.

“Let’s go.”

The seven of you make your way forward, occasionally stumbling on the wet ground. The call of the ocean is left further and further behind you as you step deeper into the gloom, and the cave seems to be shrinking slowly in size because Yunho and Mingi have to bend down occasionally to duck beneath overhanging stalactites.

As you walk, you take the time to think about what exactly you want to ask the witch if you do see her. What do you want to know? And will she even be willing to answer your questions? You’re lost in thought as you continue to walk forward, when suddenly a shadow flickers across the wall right before your eyes.

You startle back, but before you can say anything about it, you realise you’re at the end of the cave.

Everyone stops in their tracks, your captain moving forward to inspect the wall carefully with the torch. He glances around, spotting two unlit torches at the side and hesitantly lights them with his own.

They catch alight slowly, burning a little before flames suddenly erupt into the air before you, the sheer scorching heat and blinding glare from the fire have you squeezing your eyes shut on instinct. Even through your closed eyes you can still see the intense light shining through, you feel like you’ve just stared into the sun itself in the eye.

Someone grabs you by the arm and pulls you back away from the fire. The fire seems to die down a little and you open your eyes to see your captain before you, fiercely staring down the raging flames, face cast in a flickering, hellish orange glow.

Mingi screams and you whip around to see him and the rest of the crew separated from you and your captain by a blazing inferno, the cave that was once damp and dark has transformed into a brimstone hell in a matter of seconds. Shock catches in your throat.

What the hell-

From beyond the wall of fire you see Mingi attempting to run to the two of you through the flames and terror almost swallows you for a moment, but Jongho and Yunho grab him by an arm each and haul him away from the flames. Relief sags in you, because you can feel that the fire before you is unbelievably hot, like nothing you’ve ever seen or felt before. It’s heat is so intense that the water around you seems to have evaporated, leaving the ground bone dry, and the very air that you breathe in scorches your lungs. There’s no way you could make it out to the other side alive.

Your own terror is reflected in your master’s eyes as he locks gazes desperately with you, so near yet so far, Seonghwa’s arms comfortingly wrapped around his shoulders.

You’re trapped.

You turn to stare at your captain in horror, but your captain doesn’t look fazed at all. Instead, he shouts very calmly over the roar of the fire.

“Everyone, leave the cave immediately and head back to the ship. Wait for us there till daybreak. If anything comes for you, be it sirens or storms or whatever that sea witch throws at you, survive.”

Reluctance is clearly etched into each of their faces, they really don’t want to leave the two of you behind. But they have no other choice, staying here waiting isn’t going to help you and Captain escape, it’s much smarter to get back to the ship and join up with the rest of the crew.

San meets your eyes across the wall of fire, his face bathed in flickering amber brilliance. His gaze conveys one message to you.

Come back safe to me, alright?

You know you can’t promise him anything, but you nod anyway. Fear is creeping over your whole body and you’re ever so grateful your captain is at your side, because his commanding presence is the only comfort you have in this place. The hand around your wrist keeps you close to him protectively as he continues to address the crew.

But Mingi grits his teeth, clearly unwilling to move an inch from his spot without his captain. “Hongjoong-hyung, I-”

But your captain cuts him off with one decisive sentence.

“Who is the captain, Mingi?”

The tall quartermaster falters momentarily in his tracks. You can see his internal battle in his eyes as he fights between needing to stay with his captain and his logical mind that’s telling him to follow Hongjoong’s orders. Hongjoong sees it as well, and continues to push him towards making the right decision.

“Get the crew back to the ship and keep them safe as my quartermaster, Mingi. That’s an order. Do you understand?” Hongjoong commands, his voice firm and unyielding. You’re actually shocked for a moment. You’ve never been able to understand how your captain can switch from a man so close and intimate with his friends behind closed doors, yet still maintain an air of such powerful authority over them when the time requires him to be.

Mingi swallows at such an indisputable command, before he bows his head, one hand over his heart. His loyalty to his captain outweighs any personal desire he might have, even if it is to stay with him. “Yes, captain.”

Then a small smile softens the hard line of your captain’s mouth as he gazes over at his oldest friend with fond eyes. “I will return to all of you. Now this is my promise to you as a friend. Do you understand?”

Maybe it’s a trick of light, but you see tears spill over Mingi’s eyes as he nods once more.

“Yes, Hongjoong-hyung.”

Then with one final look at the two of you, he turns around and ushers the rest of the crew out of the cave. Their footsteps echo down the flame lit tunnel, ghostly shadows dancing along the walls until even those disappear as well.

And you’re alone.

“Well, it was pretty easy to say all of that when they were there.” Hongjoong mutters softly as he slides to the ground. You glance at your captain in worry. “Captain…?”

“I wish Mingi were here.” He chuckles a little depressingly and part of you flinches. This isn’t what you expected from your captain. “I’ve never been without him by my side. Him and the other guys.”

Then it occurs to you that your captain, too, is afraid.

Kim Hongjoong is the Pirate King of the Seas, the unrivaled pirate, the undefeated one. He took a flogging for you and the crew without batting an eyelash and somehow saved the entire ship in the most hopeless of situations. He dove straight into the oceans without a second thought to save you from the sirens who had been trying to tear you apart. Your captain was small, but his presence to you had always been larger than life, fiercer than any storm and more terrifying than any enemy.

And yet, here he is, admitting to you that he is actually scared.

Something about your perspective of him suddenly takes a massive turn as you crouch on the ground beside him, taking his hand. The orange glow really highlights his face, making him seem like an unearthly, ethereal being born of the flames themselves, embers burning in his gaze. He looks up at you with defeated eyes, before shaking his head with a self deprecating smile.

“I’m sorry-” He begins to apologise, but then you look at him seriously.

“Captain, can I hug you?”

He freezes in surprise, staring at you confusedly for a moment. You don’t wait for him to reply and instead you embrace him tightly, basking in a heat that radiates from him, one that burns even more fiercely and intensely than the flames surrounding you. At first, he stiffens upon the contact, but then he eases into it relaxes, one hand coming up to rest on your back.

When you finally pull away, you smile at him, trying to convey all your gratitude to him in that one expression. “Captain, you literally sailed across the sea from Nassau to Eleuthera and then to this island all on a whim that I might find my memories here, put yourself and the entire ship into danger for me and now, you’re even stuck here with me in the sea witch’s lair. So please don’t apologise to me when you’ve done so much for my sake.”

Hongjoong stares at you for a moment before he starts laughing, shaking his head as he gets to his feet. You’re a little confused whether he got what you were trying to say or not, but then he turns to smile at you, that same, confident, self assured smile you see when he’s standing at the wheel of the Treasure, watching the oceans before his feet.

“I told you. We’re family, aren’t we? You’re part of my crew.” You nod as he pulls you up to stand with him, and then he gives you that boyish, cheeky grin you only see him wear when he’s with his close crew. Something in you warms. He really is very handsome. “And I told you before, call me Hongjoong.”

You return the smile with one of your own. “Yes, captain.”

He shakes his head in amusement and turns to face the wall before you, and suddenly you realise that contrary to what you had thought before, the rock face is actually a beautiful, elaborately done mural of a mermaid sitting upon a rock . Her tail one of intricately carved silver, a shade different from the sirens you had seen before with more brightly coloured jewel tones but not in the least more dull. In fact, this tail is the most beautiful one you’ve seen, tiny details on each scale resembling sea waves cresting and rising, almost as if it’s alive.

Hongjoong seems to think so too, because he reaches out to touch them, breathing out a awestruck “wow”.

“I don’t think I’ve seen art so magnificent in all my travels.” He whispers, and you tear your eyes from the tail to glance at the mermaid herself.

To your shock, her skin seems to be painted in a way that it seems translucent, like water. It reflects the light of the flames in a way that reminds you of fluid crystal. You feel like if you touch her, she’ll merely burst and disappear, so you refrain from doing so, eyes searching for hers instead.

They’re blue, but they’re also not. They’re the colour of the calmest sea on a summer day as the bright sun shines overhead, but at the same time they’re the colour of a raging ocean in the middle of a hurricane. They’re pitch black as sea when it reflects the night sky above it, sprinkled with stars and as clear as clean water running through your fingers. For a moment, your eyes hurt from looking at it, so you turn away and blink, wondering what has gotten into you lately.

Then Hongjoong lets out a cry of surprise, pointing towards the mermaid’s chest. Drawn around her neck is a long silver chain, dangling in the middle of her chest and resting against her navel, except there’s no ornament residing there. Your breath gets cut off when you realise what it resembles.

The necklace that you’re wearing.

You yank it off your neck, holding it to the painting of the mermaid. You feel like her eyes are gazing right into yours as you move forward with shaking fingers, pressing the crystal at the very end right where it should be.

Yes…

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then the stone wall before you groans mightily, and you yank the necklace back in shock as the mermaid seems to disappear into the stone wall right before your eyes. Hongjoong takes your hand protectively and pulls you behind him, his other hand drawing his cutlass from his belt, ready to face anything that comes your way.

But the stone wall merely sinks into the ground, revealing another dark passageway forward.

You and your captain exchange glances, before he grins at you, a determined glow in his eyes. Yes. You can face this with your captain at your side.

“Let’s go.”

The two of you step forward together.


	38. The Sea Witch

It’s cold here.

The second you step into the tunnel before you, the stone wall rises behind you once more, plunging you and your captain into darkness, the only light that reaches you is at what you presume to be the end of the tunnel. It’s far dryer than you expected for the lair of a sea witch, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Hongjoong takes your hand and moves in front of you, armed with his cutlass. You think about drawing yours as well, but wielding a blade with your non-dominant hand is probably going to do more damage than any actual help, so you refrain from doing so.

Every step you take sends echoes bouncing eerily off the walls around you, so you hold on tighter to your captain’s hand and stick to his side, shying away from the walls. Hongjoong’s grip on your hand is firm and warm, pulling you with him as the two of you finally reach the end of the cave and step into the light.

To your surprise, you’re not in a cave anymore.

It’s a beach.

After joining a pirate crew, you had been on the sea for most of your time since awakening. And when you hadn’t, you had often been at docks or beaches, and yes, you would like to say you had seen many beautiful beaches in your short “life” here so far.

But this beach is like none other you’ve seen before.

Tall, jagged cliffs rise around you like fingers stretching for the grey, stormy sky above you. No water touches your skin yet, but you can taste it in the air you breathe that a torrential downpour is on the brink of falling. The white, foaming sea ploughs forward and would have crashed down upon the beach you are on if it weren’t for the rocky reef barriers breaking them apart, sea spray flying into the air.

“I hope this is symbolism for something bad coming in the near future.” You mutter grimly, but before your captain can reply, there’s someone standing before you.

You don’t know how she got here. One second she wasn’t there and one second she simply was, looking completely calm and unruffled as if she had been there the whole time and you two merely hadn’t noticed her.

You nearly leap out of your skin in fright, Hongjoong handling this surprise a lot better than you are. He pulls you behind him in one smooth motion, tip of his cutlass pointed right towards the woman.

“Who are you?”

The first thought that registers in your mind is that she’s beautiful.

No, beautiful is actually too tame of a word to describe her. When the fortune teller on Tortuga had spoken of a sea witch, you had expected for someone that looked much like her, an old hag draped in rags with occult symbols and beads, perhaps missing several teeth and smelling like she hadn’t known a bar of soap her whole life. But you’re almost guilty that you thought about her that way, because this woman is completely different from what you expected.

Her lovely, slender figure is adorned in a sheer golden dress that brushes the sand behind her and flies with the wind like a bird in the sky, woven from a material that for some reason you recognise even though you’ve never seen it before. Sea silk, you realise in shock, a textile so valuable it is actually worth more than its weight in gold.

In stark contrast to her gown, her hair is a midnight black, flowing over her shoulders in waves and plunging down her back to her waist like a inky waterfall, the strands gently brushing soft, petal lips.

Then you meet her eyes.

People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that statement holds true, then the woman before you must have an eternal one, because her eyes are a bottomless blue that remind you of the deepest, most mysterious depths of the ocean. There doesn’t seem to be an end to the infinite wisdom and grace of her, and when you look at her, face to face, she merely gives you a gentle smile.

When she moves, something abruptly slams into your mind that she isn’t a statue and is, in fact, a living, breathing human being. The smile she presents you with is bright enough to turn a man blind, and you feel as if your eyes have just been blessed by the mere sight of her. She opens her mouth to speak.

“Welcome, Choi Chin Hae.”

You don’t even realise you’re gaping at her until Hongjoong lifts one hand to shut your mouth, which closes with an audible clop. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by her, however, his sword still focused on the woman with an unwavering hand.

“I asked, who are you?”

The woman merely shows a teasing smile and quirks a brow at him playfully, as if she’s part of a little secret that he’s not included in.

“You would battle all manner of sea storms and sirens to reach this island, yet not know what you are searching for?” She shakes her head, as if disappointed. “Even if you have your suspicions on who I am, I know full well who you are, Kim Hongjoong.”

Every word she speak reverberates with power and now that you hear her voice for the second time, it sends shivers down your spine. You don’t know how to describe it, but her voice sounds like waves sweeping against the shore in the early morning light. You can feel a powerful pulse around her, a billion times more intense than your master’s, like invisible riptides in the air around her.

Your captain’s eye narrows. “You’re the sea witch?” You can hear the confusion in his voice and the woman nods, each simple action effortlessly graceful and elegant as a dancer.

“That is what most call me, yes.” She gazes towards you with those fathomless blue eyes. “But the name my mistress bestowed upon me is Eldoris.”

Eldoris. Even her name sounds beautiful.

“Well then, Lady Eldoris,” Hongjoong’s tone is carefully polite, but his grip on the sword is still tight. “Would you mind if you answered a few of our questions?”

Eldoris’ smile widens to show pearly white teeth. “I will answer all the questions you have for me to the best of my ability.”

There’s something tugging inside you that’s warning you that everything has been too easy up till now and your captain obviously feels it too, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Instead, he merely glances at you, encouraging you to move forward and ask what you want to know.

For a moment you just stand there as the two of them look at you expectantly. Even though up till this point your mind was overflowing with questions, now that you’re face to face with the prospect of getting real answers, your mind suddenly stutters to a stop, completely blank.

So much had happened. There is so much you want to know. Where are you to begin?

“First,” You start off with the simplest question you can think of, “What do you know about me?”

The sea witch tilts her head to the side as she searches your face intently, eyes skimming your features in a way that makes you a little uneasy.

“A month ago, you awoke in a prison cell in the town of Raguza wearing the coat of a Royal Navy officer.” She begins softly, her gaze holding yours captive as she lays out your story since awakening. “You were sentenced to death by hanging, but managed to escape when there was a raid on the town by the pirate band ATEEZ. You hid on the ship when it sailed away, and from there on became part of the crew.”

You know you’re supposed to be shocked by how she knows all of this, but you’ve been through a lot, from learning about the fact you’re actually a golem to how Seonghwa’s family actually were pirates. The novelty of having near unbelievable feats being dropped on you had kind of worn off after a while.

You swallow nervously as you begin to probe a little deeper. “Then do you know about what I am?”

At this she pauses, as if thinking about how to phrase her words very carefully in a way that would be the most accurate. The wind sweeps around her, tossing her dark hair into into the air as she answers your question. “I am aware that you are considered to be, in part, a golem of clay that has only existed for a moon.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It really is as the fortune teller had told you back on Tortuga. You had made a deal with the woman before you, a sea witch, to gain this body that you have.

As if sensing the turmoil within you, Hongjoong takes your hand in his gently, squeezing tight to let you know he’s still there.

His comfort gives you the courage you need to ask the question you need answered. You take a deep breath and finally spill what you’ve been intending to ask her this whole time.

“Did you… make me?”

There’s a long silence as the sea witch stands opposite you on the beach, her eyes filled with secrets as she meets your desperate gaze. Then she nods her head very slowly, as if this time she’s trying to be deliberately vague.

“I did make your body.” Eldoris speaks softly as she looks you over with an intense gaze. A chilling shiver wraps around your throat and dances down your spine, you feel as if someone has just walked right across your grave. She’s studying you like how a potter would study her work, her eyes tracing every inch of your body.

Hongjoong’s fingers tighten around yours.

You force down the unease and meet the sea witch in the eye the best you can.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘make my body’? The fortune teller I visited told me she had never seen a vessel crafted so beautifully.” You don’t mean to sound like you’re flattering yourself, but it is what she said, at least. You want to know how exactly you’re different from other golems, why the fortune teller had been able to tell you that you were unique in an instant.

Eldoris’ deep blue eyes narrow slightly. “I built your body from the clay found along the rocks worn away by the sea that have bathed in moonlight for aeons, before the mortals came into existence. With my own hands I crafted you, a feat unheard of by any other magician. To animate golems, a magic slip is placed in their mouths by their creators to represent the breath of life of the Creator. They then move, act upon their master’s wishes, but you see, Chin Hae… there’s one thing that sets you apart from all other golems.”

You find yourself unconsciously leaning forward, desperate to know what she has to say next. As far as you know, there is no slip of paper in your mouth. What makes you different?

“You have a heart.”

The very heart she’s speaking about stops in your chest for a second, as if aware that the witch before you is speaking about it. You remember the starry night on the beach, watching the clay of your fingers run with the tide until the mysterious man with eyes as green as the earth had plunged a knife into your chest, placing it inside.

A clay heart.

The moment the heart had been put in your body, clay had become skin and flesh, where there had once been nothing but earth, blood flowed through your veins. You felt the wind and water of the sea with your own fingers, felt air rush into your lungs with each breath you took. For the first time in your life, you felt a heartbeat thud in your chest.

But how?

How was that man able to turn mere clay into… this?

“Powerful magic.” Eldoris says, her voice drifting to you over the wind. You’re startled into shock when you realised she can read your mind with a single glance at your face. “Powerful, ancient magic that I could never even dream about.”

A hysterical snort escapes you. All this talk about arcane and magic and ancient beings is really starting to scare you, goosebumps crawling up your skin. “I suppose not all golems also have this friendly green eyed man to turn their clay into skin?” You shake your head at your own joke, but when the sea witch answers you, her voice is perfectly serious, solemn, even.

“No. Only you.”

You’re stunned with disbelief. What would this supposedly immensely powerful being want with a mere clay golem like you? Why would he bother giving you a heart? And why would he say that everything is going according to plan?

Are you… a pawn in some scheme of his?

But that feeling of desperately reaching out for him comes back to you. Even though you couldn’t recognise his face, part of you seems to remember him, you just know somehow that you trusted him with everything you were.

Then something strikes you as odd.

If golems were merely animated beings of clay, without conscience or heart, then how did you have memories even before the heart was put into your chest?

Your eyes fly wide open in shock all of a sudden.

“Eldoris…” You ask desperately, too anxious to bother addressing her respectfully. Something about it doesn’t feel right to you, anyway. “Before my body was created… was I someone else?”

Her expression doesn’t change in the slightest, but you can somehow see the genuine surprise that flashes across her face. Beside you, you can hear Hongjoong draw in a surprised breath.

“Chin Hae-”

“Yes.”

That one single word leaves her lips with so much surety, as if she needs you to understand that you were someone before this all. Shock shoots through your entire body. It’s not that you had no memories, on the other hand, your memories must have been erased somehow. You were someone.

Her eyes don’t leave yours, beseeching, as if willing you to know something that you don’t.

“Then do you know who I was, how I got into this body, why I have no memories?”

Suddenly, Eldoris’ eyes darken at your words. Her voice drops to something more grave, her tone almost warning, but you don’t realise it in your impatience to get the answers you’ve been waiting for since your awakening.

“I do.” She answers, but her words are grim.

Finally. Your identity and memories are finally in your reach now.

“Can you tell me?” You almost breath, desperate for your answers. You’re finally at the end of your journey now, you can finally discover who you once were and put an end to all of this agony within you.

Eldoris meets your anguished gaze with a calm one of her own, folding her hands elegantly before her and opening her mouth to speak once more.

The word that leaves her lips is unbelievably simple, yet more infinitely complex than you can comprehend.

“No.”


	39. Names

You aren’t sure whether you heard her wrongly.

“No?” The word bounces around in your head several times, as if mocking you over and over again. You’re stunned into disbelief. You’ve traveled the ocean, battled a furious storm, got chomped through the arm by a crazy siren, all to be told that the sea witch before you does know everything about who you were before, but is unwilling to tell you?

Your captain scowls, fingers tightening on the hilt of his cutlass as he glares at the sea witch in the eye. “You said that you’d answer her questions.”

She doesn’t flinch in the least, even when he draws the weapon on her. Instead, her eyes merely darken like a stormy sky, and suddenly, the winds around her starts to pick up as if in response to her anger, rising to a whistling howl that whips your hair into your eyes and stings your skin. “Correction. I said that I would answer the questions to the best of my ability. Fortune shines upon you, mortal, that my lady’s blessing protects you. Do not test me. It is only by her grace that you can even step foot on this beach.”

Hongjoong doesn’t back down, cutlass still raised.

“Wait, wait, wait-” You’ve been completely ignoring their little face off for the last few minutes, trying to fully understand what on earth is happening. You want to rip out your hair and scream, but now’s not the time for that. “Why… Why?”

Eldoris’ expression remains completely neutral, as if her features have been carved from stone. Her pokerface could give San’s a run for its money any day.

“I agreed to answer all the questions you had for me within my power. This one is one I cannot answer.”

Your face goes flat as you battle to keep from swearing in front of this supposedly powerful sea witch, you’re tempted to smack her in the face and shake her back and forth, screaming in her face. The words tumble out of your words before you can stop them.

“So you know about me before I got into this body,” you gesture to yourself frantically, “and you know how I came to be in it, you also know why I lost my memories, but you just don’t feel like telling me?”

The last words are spat out with fury and for a moment, you swear you can see the sea witch flinch a little, guilt flitting across her face. But she breathes in deeply and answers your question with an even voice.

“I wish to help you in any way I can, but I cannot tell you the answer to this.”

She’s as unhelpful at answering your questions as San when it comes to steering the ship and you literally on the verge of throwing a hysterical fit when something finally strikes as odd at the way she has replied to you so far.

“You won’t tell me…” You ask hesitantly, studying her face for a change of each expression. “Or you can’t tell me?”

At that, her shoulders relax slightly, as if relieved that you’ve finally gotten it. She nods, neutral expression closest to earnest you’ve ever seen.

“I cannot.”

You feel like you’ve been smacked across the face with a dead fish.

“Then can you tell me why you cannot?”

Those words seem to lift a weight of her shoulders, even though the light in her eyes remain grim as ever when she nods once more. The next words that leave her mouth have you even more shocked than you were before.

“I am bound by an unbreakable oath to my mistress with my very soul as collateral.” She says softly, each word serious as grave. Your eyes widen in stunned disbelief. “To not reveal or impart knowledge of who you were before you came to be in this body to you, or anyone else, no matter how desperately they beg for it, in case you ever regain your memories.”

What? Her soul as collateral?

“Wait… this mistress you’re talking about…” You force out, trying desperately not to hyperventilate. This is honestly getting too crazy for your brain to handle. “Who is she?”

At those words, a proud gleam comes into her eye and she straightens her back, meeting your gaze with a look you don’t quite understand.

“What the mortals call the sea goddess.”

At that, you do choke. You’ve been hearing these terms being thrown around so casually, sea witch, fortune teller, ancient magic, but hearing Eldoris say the words with so much confidence and surety seals everything for you. Magic is real. Then the meaning of what she’s just said hits you like a tidal wave.

“What would the sea goddess want with me? Why does she not want me to regain my memories?” You sputter out, burying your hands in your hair as you try to make sense of it all. Have you offended the sea goddess herself in the past? Is she playing some sort of sadistic joke on you?

But Eldoris merely shakes her head once, her eyes pleading for you to understand.

“It’s for your own good, Chin Hae-” She begins, but you’ve finally had enough. Everything in you snaps like a caving dam and anger floods through you, the wind howling in your ears furiously as the waves break against the reef barrier to swirl around your feet.

“Why? How can losing my memories possibly be for my own good? Curse the sea goddess, I’m going to freaking murder her, I-”

Eldoris’ next words are as clear as the sky.

“If you recover your memories, you’ll die.”

Every part of your body seems to turn to ice simultaneously, blood freezing in your veins as you stare at her, unmoving. Your mind is completely silent except for that one sentence, resounding again and again in your head.

If you recover your memories, you’ll die.

You can barely register Hongjoong’s arms pulling you to him as he tries to reassure you, but his words simply drift past your ears like the whistling of the wind.

You’ll die you’ll die you’ll die-

“What do you mean?” You hear your captain demand, and you desperately try to pull the shreds of your focus together so you can hear her explanation.

Eldoris stares at you gravely.

“Regaining her memories means her death.” The sea witch says gently, a pitying look in her eye as she shakes her head in response to Hongjoong’s question. “A degradation of the physical body that now contains her essence, to be more exact. They are trapped within the body she resides in. If you free them, her body dies too.”

The fortune teller’s words come back to you hauntingly.

You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.

You stare at your own hands in horror. This cursed shell, this body of clay, it’s the thing that’s keeping you apart from your memories? For the first time ever since you discovered you’re a golem, you feel truly hollow, a gaping, empty hole in your chest where your heart lies, where your memories are held.

A muffled scream breaks free from your throat and your knees feel weak, your legs crumple and you hunch over the ground with your hands tearing at your hair. You feel like you want to physically rip your brain from your skull and demand for it to spit out your memories now, because you’d rather regain your memories right this second and die, in comparison to the agony of living the rest of your life without knowing who you are.

Your breath catches as you stare at the cutlass hanging at your side.

Maybe… maybe if you just…

You’re so tempted to, gods, your memories are just within your reach. It’s all you’ve ever wanted the second you woke up, and now you can finally have them. It’s in your grasp. It’s all in your hand.

All you have to do is take it.

Your fingers inch for your cutlass.

“Chin Hae, no!” Hongjoong catches your wrist before you can clench your fingers around the hilt and you’re jerked out of your trance to stare at him, still dazed. His bright green eye is terrified, swallowed by concern and fear, and then a painful, heart wrenching sensation twists in your chest.

Hongjoong’s cries when he endured the whipping for you, the sound of skin tearing with every lash and the metallic scent of blood in the air.

San’s bright smile as he held your hands in his, healing the scrapes on your palms, softly guiding you through each step of the process.

Yeosang’s shudder as three bullets hit him in the back, ripping through his flesh, blood gushing from his wounds.

Mingi’s gaze as he sat with you on that pink, sandy beach, telling you about his captain and crew with a fond smile on his face.

Seonghwa’s laughter as you burnt yet another steak and he ate it anyway with a smile on his face, praising you for your improvement under his tutelage.

Yunho’s sigh when he stood in that crow’s nest with you, the story about him and his brother falling from his lips as the sun rose before you.

Jongho’s chuckle as he swiped a cream bun straight from your hands before popping it into his mouth, laughing at the pout on your face before dropping his cake into your lap.

Wooyoung’s earnest smile as he hands you the silver hairpin with hesitant eyes, your fingers brushing as you stare at it in awe.

Through your tears you laugh in despair, burying your face in your hands. On one hand, ever so enticing, lie your memories, your history, your identity. You so badly want to take it, more than anything else, but on the other hand…

“I name you Choi Chin Hae, family of the ATEEZ crew.”

Your heart splits in two from the sheer pain of the choice you have to make. For a moment, when you close your eyes, you see someone staring back at you in your mind.

It’s the green eyed man.

You’re back on that beach once more, sky dotted with stars. There are tears running down your cheeks as you feel the breath of the wind in your lungs, the steady beating of your heart in your chest for the first time. He smiles at you so fondly as you reach out and hold him close, his hand running through your hair.

“I believe it, I know it, I can see it. I trust that you can make your path the right one. You will find a name deserving of you, given to you by those who love you. Take this and go to the town of Raguza. Your journey begins there.” He whispers into your ear and you nod, sniffling and moving back as he presses a kiss to your temple. Around your shoulders he puts a coat of land cloth, something that has not touched you in millenia. A red rose is embroidered on the back. “Your fate intertwines with a mortal once more.”

You turn towards the sea, one foot touching the waves, and you hesitate. It’s as if your eyes are drawn to him, you glance over your shoulder to meet his gaze one last time. But you cannot linger for long, already you can feel your new body beginning to crumble ever so slowly into clay once more.

He hasn’t moved from the beach, although his smile turns sad.

“You don’t have much time. Go, and don’t look back.”

His name swirls around in your mind like a final memory, before it spirals into the air and vanishes with the wind.

Don’t look back.

Like a breath of air, the vision fades and you’re staring into your captain’s eye once more, his arms tight around you as he begs you desperately again and again not to leave them.

He’s trembling against you, his fingers digging into your wrists as if he’s trying to physically prevent you from doing anything rash. Incoherent mumbles fall from his mouth, all beseeching you to stay, not to do anything foolish, and that’s when you have your answer.

It hurts you so much to give up on your memories like this. But you know, deep within you, that giving up on them would be a fate worse than death.

So, closing your eyes one last time, you imagine the you from before in your mind.

She appears, standing upon the ocean waves as she looks at you in the eye. Both of you are eerily identical, though her skin seems to be luminous and crystal-like as a figment of your imagination, her eyes shifting colours like the mermaid you had seen on the stone wall outside. She smiles at you, a quirk to her mouth that seems both happy and wistful at the same time, her hair flying with the sea breeze as you make your choice. You raise your hand in farewell, reluctance tearing at every fibre of your being.

“Goodbye.”

With those words, she closes her eyes and simply melts away into seafoam, swirling with the waves and disappearing from sight.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae?” Your captain is shaking you now, and you stare at him for a moment, trying to remember who you are and what you’re doing. Then you see wetness starting to gather at the corners of his eyes and it suddenly hits you.

“I’m not-” The words get caught in your throat, so you pause to swallow and before you try to speak once more. “I’m not… I’m not going to leave all of you behind.”

At that, your captain visibly sags in relief, slumping against you, but it’s nothing compared to the weight that falls from your shoulders. The moment you declared that, it became the truth. You would stay with the crew no matter what. You understand how Seonghwa could leave Nassau behind and stay on the Treasure instead now, because the crew were his family.

Eldoris’ eyes pierce yours like a blade, although something in her seems relieved.

“So, what will you do now?”

You shrug as Hongjoong picks himself off the ground, reaching out a hand to help you up. You take it.

“I’ll go wherever the Treasure goes.” You say, and the words are light, as if you’ve been freed from invisible chains that had been holding you down. Your memories are well and truly out of your grasp, you have no more goal to chase after. Hongjoong takes your hand and squeezes tight, fingers locking with yours.

Eldoris nods, although a little hesitant this time. Her deep blue eyes meet yours.

“I’m glad that you found what you had been searching for this whole time, Choi Chin Hae.” She tells you, but her words are solemn, and something tells you she’s not talking about your memories. You frown, but you’re honestly not in the mood to play anymore mind games with the sea witch.

But you do have one final question you want answered before you leave this island behind you forever.

“The name of the green eyed man… do you know it?”

You at least want to know the name of the mysterious man who has been in your dreams for so long. Eldoris shakes her head, and you feel your heart sink in disappointment.

“He has no name.”

At that, you’re a little startled. He doesn’t have a name? How can anything on this earth not have a name? But the sea witch continues speaking.

“For divine beings such as he, he is omnipresent, the closest thing to all powerful any conscious can reach.” She says the words with such reverence you almost feel like you should bow before her. You flinch at the word divine, brows furrowed in confusion. “But they have no souls as the mortals do, they are merely consciousnesses formed of great power. In the end, when this world dies, they will fade away and cease to exist, even when the souls of humans dwell on forever. Thus they have no names, for they have no imprint upon this world.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you think of the green eyed man, his gentle smile lingering in your mind. The thought of him simply becoming… nothing… it scares you, even though you barely know him.

“But they do call each other by the words that the Creator called them into existence with.” You startle a little in surprise when the sea witch’s voice takes on an almost melancholy tone. “I cannot speak the words myself with this human tongue, for only creatures created at the beginning of time can, such as the Kraken. I so dearly wish I could do the same and address my mistress with spoken word, but…”

Now you’re just confused.

The sea witch trails off and shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. “Either way, they have no souls as the humans do, thus they cannot be named. Mortals have attempted to name them many times, but their simple, spoken words can only capture the physical aspect of them. No mortal can ever name a divine being.”

You have absolutely no idea what she’s saying at this point, so you merely nod in an impression of understanding.

“Thank you, Eldoris, for the body you have given me.”

The sea witch pauses and looks at you straight in the eye. Something about the way she’s does so makes you shiver uncomfortably.

“I wish you all the best.” Her eyes burn into yours with the intensity of a million suns. Swallowing uncomfortably, you let Hongjoong take you by the arm and the two of you walk back to the cave, hand in hand.

He squeezes your fingers and you look at him, his eyes gentle on yours.

“What are you going to do now?” He asks again, as if he needs to hear it from your lips once more. You smile at your captain, taking a deep breath as you imagine the faces of all of your crew who are waiting for you back on the ship.

“Let’s go home.”

And the two of you leave the beach behind, never looking back.


	40. Oppa

“Can I please touch it?” You breathe, staring at it in awe.

“No.”

“Pleaseeeee~” You whine, and Hongjoong stares at you with some sort of frightened expression, before clutching it closer to his chest.

“No!”

You clasp your hands together and puff out your cheeks in a pout, almost begging your captain. “Please…?”

Your captain falters at the look on your face, hesitating for a moment. Then he comes back to his senses and shakes his head frantically, trying to assume a stern expression.

“I don’t trust anyone with the name Choi to steer this ship, the last time San took the wheel he ran us aground on a beach and Jongho broke the wheel into three pieces. You are not touching the wheel and that is final.”

“But Hongjoong-hyung…” You pout and Hongjoong sputters at the use of his real name, before he forces himself to look away with a scowl.

“I know what you’re playing at, Chin Hae! All of you only call me by name when you want something from me! I’m not falling for it!”

Then he whips around to glare at the man perched cheerfully on the railing of the forecastle deck, who is grinning at you proudly. “Wooyoung, I swear, you better stop teaching Chin Hae your persuasive techniques before I shoot you myself!

“Nope~” Wooyoung hums in a sing song voice as he basks in the sun’s rays like a large cat, chuckling at the sour expression on his captain’s face before he flashes two thumbs ups at you. “I know you can do it, Chin Hae!”

You nod eagerly, determined to work away at your captain until he caves in to your request, but then a voice from the stairs interrupt you.

“Wooyoung-ah, why have you been stealing my apprentice from me?” 

You whirl around in surprise to see your master climbing the stairs with his arms crossed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. A smile pulls at your lips as he wraps his arms around you from behind and settles his chin on your shoulder, cocking his head while taking in Wooyoung and Hongjoong eyeing each other.

Hongjoong is glaring quite frantically, but Wooyoung merely laughs that high pitched dolphin squeal in response, body shaking with amusement. Your captain snorts in disgust and throws his hands up into the air.

“Does no one on this ship respect me?”

The reply is immediate.

“Yes, captain.” You, San and Wooyoung answer simultaneously and then the three of you are exchanging a long and complicated handshake between you. It originally belonged to just San and Wooyoung, but after awhile of teasing Hongjoong together, you’ve learnt their secrets and you can now declare you are part of the inner fold of the crew.

Your captain just smacks his face into the wheel and groans.

It’s been a month since you’ve left the sea witch behind you. In that time, you’ve grown so much closer to the crew already, truly integrating yourself into the crew. You’ve seen raids, actual battles on other ships, especially British East India trading ships that Hongjoong targets for the supplies and gold that they carry.

To your surprise, piracy is actually something rather peaceful, for you at least. Trading ships don’t carry cannons, and usually the sight of the Treasure’s orange and black flag is enough to scare the victim into submission. You haven’t seen a battle in the whole time since you’ve left the sea witch, although Yunho and Jongho insists on keeping your fighting skills up in case anything happens.

You’re a little surprised at first when Hongjoong doesn’t insist on raiding the ship bone bare, instead preferring to leave enough for the ship to survive. A far cry, Mingi had told you, from what Hongjoong used to do. You know that your captain had been a dangerous man a long time before, but you had never expected such a change of heart in him.

Speaking of dangerous people…

Up till now, you still don’t know what had happened to Wooyoung that day.

Part of you still twists a little in unease every time you see him, but you have to remind yourself that this is Jung Wooyoung, the one who gave you the hairpin tucked protectively in your belt, the one who fought to keep you alive that day in Nassau, the one who had saved your life from the sirens. You remember your times in the sails climbing the ropes When you look at that adorable, boxy smile on his face as he teases your captain relentlessly, that small, niggling sensation fades away into the back of your mind like a dream in the morning.

No. No matter who he was before, he’s nothing like that now.

The man in question glances over at you with a huge grin from where he’s poking his captain in the sides, Hongjoong dissolving into fits of uncontrollable, hysterical giggles as he tries to hold on to the wheel. San joins in, dragging his captain away from the wheel as he laughs uncontrollably. Your captain topples to the ground and Wooyoung and San pounce on top of him, tickling him mercilessly as he rolls around on the deck begging for mercy.

Wooyoung turns to you with a bright smile, breathless with laughter, vibrant, purple hair in disarray, and your heart stutters for a second in your chest.

“Go on, Chin Hae, take the wheel!”

You fight down the unease in you and smile back, forcing the thoughts out of your head as you scamper over to the wheel, gently taking it with hesitant hands.

Immediately you can feel the roar of the sea as it rushes against the rudder, the waves rocking the ship back and forth gently. The Treasure hums under your feet, and for a second, elation rising in you.

“Oh, she’s actually pretty good at it.” Mingi remarks as he steps onto the quarterdeck, followed by Yunho and Yeosang, who look shocked that Hongjoong is actually letting you touch the wheel, before seeing him pinned down by the ship’s resident healer and head gunner.

Yunho grins in anticipation and starts stretching his legs. Your captain turns white at the sight and squeaks desperately under the human pile, waving his arms frantically as he attempts to wriggle his way out, to no avail.

“Yunho, no, don’t do it-”

The battlemaster ignores everything his captain says. Stepping back, he charges forward like a raging bull and jumps on top of the pile, flattening all three people under him.

“Ouch, you’re heavy, Yunho-ah!”

“I’m going to throw you all off the ship for this, I am the captain-”

“Yun Hoe why are you so fat-”

“What’s happening?” Jongho asks as he joins the mess that is the quarterdeck. You smile at the younger battlemaster, who’s holding an apple in his hand.

“Can I have some, Jongho-hyung?”

He merely nods, ignoring the shrieking of his captain as the three of his crew mates bury Hongjoong in a flurry of tickles, all laughing uncontrollably. Breaking the apple in half easily, he then breaks it into quarters, and then into bite sized pieces, one of which he pops into your mouth.

“Thanks, hyung.” You mumble as you crunch on the apple, your words muffled by the piece of fruit in your mouth. Jongho makes a face at the word, as if he wants to tell you something, but you don’t know what. You swallow the apple piece before you ask him what it is.

“Is there something wrong, Jongho-hyung?”

At that, Jongho finally sighs over Hongjoong’s squealing in the background, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well… I want you to stop calling me hyung, actually.”

Sadness descends on you for a moment and the smile on your face falls away instantly, only to be replaced by a miserable look. Jongho looks confused for a moment at the change of expression, before he realises how you might have interpreted his words.

“No no no that’s not what I meant-” He flaps around in a panic for a moment like a wet hen, before he pinches the bridge of his nose and glances over at Yeosang, who’s merely shaking his head at his crew mates’ antics. “Yeosang-hyung, can you tell her what we were talking about yesterday?”

Your heart sinks in your chest. They were talking about you behind your back?

The navigator lights up, as if in realisation, stepping away from the screeching human pile that has somehow become a tiny Hongjoong sandwiched between Yunho, San and Wooyoung. He sees the confused, sad look on your face and is quick to reassure you.

“What we’ve wanted you to know for a while is… now that we’ve found out that you’re a woman, you can’t call us hyung anymore.” You’re momentarily confused, before the ship’s resident language expert continues speaking. “You see, hyung is something younger guys call older guys, but since you’re not a guy anymore, you’re supposed to call us… well… oppa.”

Understanding dawns upon you like a ray of sunlight.

“Ahh.” You turn to Jongho, who’s nodding seriously in agreement as he puts another apple bite in his mouth. “So like… Jongho-oppa?”

At the last word, Jongho’s eyes bulge out suddenly and he chokes furiously, the half chewed apple piece flying out of his mouth and missing Yeosang’s head by mere inches. The navigator manages to dodge in time and the piece of fruit goes flying over the side of the ship into the sea.

“Jongho-oppa!” You cry out in shock, letting go of the wheel to pat a hacking Jongho on the back, Mingi smoothly sliding in to steer the ship. The word, however, just seems to make the young battlemaster cough harder, waving you off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine-” He coughs one more time, thumping his chest as he wheezes for breath. “I just wasn’t… expecting that.”

You glance over at a serenely smiling Yeosang in confusion. “Am I saying it wrong, Yeosang-oppa?”

The navigator beams at you proudly as he pats Jongho on the back, the younger battlemaster slumping against his crew mate as he attempts to catch his breath. “Not at all. Good job, Chin Hae! Go try it on the rest of the guys!”

With the new word lingering on your tongue, you turn towards the human pile.

Your captain is now weakly crying with laughter as his crew members continue assaulting him with tickles from every direction, twitching as he attempts to free himself from their cage like arms. You turn to the one at the top of the pile, hanging over Yunho’s back as he pinches Hongjoong’s sides.

“Umm… Wooyoung…” You begin a little awkwardly, nerves suddenly getting to you. What if he chokes too and doesn’t want to be called that? But it’s too late, you’ve already gotten his attention and he turns to look at you with earnest, green eyes, alight with joy and laughter.

“What is it?”

Your heart stumbles a little in your chest and you’re confused for a moment at what you’re feeling. But you push it aside and hesitantly glance at him in the eye, unable to hold his gaze, which is filled with innocent, child-like curiosity.

“Do you want me to call you… Wooyoung-oppa?”

There’s a moment of awkward silence.

Wooyoung’s reaction isn’t as dramatic as Jongho’s, but it’s even more confusing. His mouth falls open a little, his eyes widening in shock and his eyebrows rising a little as he registers what you’ve just said.

He’s shocked, you can tell. Just whether it’s a good shocked or bad shocked, that’s what you don’t know.

Before you can muster the courage to ask him what’s wrong, he suddenly makes a little, squeaky noise and claps his hands to his cheeks as fast as he can, shaking his head frantically and refusing to meet you in the eye. You’re a little surprised, trying to bend down so you can see exactly what kind of expression he’s making.

“Wooyoung-oppa? Wooyoung-oppa?”

From underneath Wooyoung, San’s eyes light up in realisation, unbeknownst to you or Wooyoung himself.

San knows Wooyoung like he knows the back of his own hand, perhaps more than Wooyoung knows himself. After all, he’s the one who took care of Wooyoung when he first came to the ship. The two have a special bond… one that you can’t even begin to fathom.

Then a gentle smile crosses his face.

“Ooh, Wooyoung-ah, are you shy?” San whistles teasingly and Wooyoung’s head immediately snaps around to stare at San in horror, the chains on his wrists jingling. Then he realises you’re still looking at him in confusion and hops off the pile as fast as he can, squatting on the ground trying to hide his face from you.

Is he… embarrassed?

Yunho’s smile turns evil as well as he mercifully clambers off Hongjoong, who simply lies there, exhausted, while the battlemaster makes his way over to Wooyoung. The head gunner squeaks at the approaching footsteps but doesn’t dare to move, until Yunho grabs his hands and yanks them away from his face.

“Heuk! Hyung, stop it-” Wooyoung cries in horror, but you already see his face, a bright, cherry red blush staining his cheeks and creeping down his neck. He looks like a baby puppy that just got caught stealing food, and the sight makes a smile spread uncontrollably on your face.

“Wooyoung-oppa.” You repeat again. Somehow, Wooyoung’s flush gets even brighter, and he finally slumps the floor with an adorable, defeated pout, hands on his cheeks once more as Yunho and San laugh uncontrollably behind him. “You’re just cruel, Chin Hae, teasing me like this.”

Your heart skips a beat. Really, what is this feeling?

“Me too!” Hongjoong whines, looking annoyed as he gets to his feet on wobbly legs. “Nobody on this ship ever calls me by name! Chin Hae, please help me out here!”

You smile sweetly at Hongjoong.

“Of course, captain.”

At Hongjoong’s screech of exasperation and howling of laughter coming from around you, you smile, contented, with your lot in this life. You may not have your memories, but you have them, and it’s more than you could ever wish for.

They’re your treasure.


	41. Memories

“Chin Hae, can you pass me the salt?”

“Coming right up!” You call over the rattle of the pans, grabbing the wooden bottle from the shelf and tossing it over your shoulder without a second glance. Seonghwa catches it easily without turning around, the two of you already so attuned with each other’s actions in the kitchen that you might as well be telepathic.

“Thanks!” He tells you and you nod, knowing that even though he can’t see it, he’ll somehow sense it anyway. The fragrance of steak and chicken marinated with spices and wild onions grilling over a charcoal fire wafts into the air and you breathe in appreciatively.

You’re almost salivating at the very thought of eating it already, the tantalizing smell lingering on in your mouth.

“Your cooking is amazing, you know that, Seonghwa-oppa?”

The cook smiles shyly, shaking his head as he prepares the stir fried vegetables in the pan, seasoning them lightly with salt. Not too much, Seonghwa always tells you, because salt has a strong taste and he wants people to appreciate the original flavour of the food. Enhance, not replace, as he likes to say.

“I did grow up intending to be a chef and cook lots of delicious food for customers.” He says wistfully, and for a moment you’re brought back to that beach on Nassau, watching Seonghwa as he chose to stay with the Treasure. Then his smile broadens gently as he puts the vegetables on a plate, hand stilling in the air for a moment. “But it’s more fulfilling to cook for people I love.”

You can’t help but beam back at him. Seonghwa is truly too sweet for this pirate life, you think as you chop up the chives finely to use as garnishing. He looks at your work proudly.

“You’ve really improved by leaps and bounds.” Seonghwa praises you, one hand ruffling your hair like a proud older brother. You laugh as he moves to the charcoal oven to take out the pieces of grilled meat, shaking your head in amusement.

“You’re not lying out of the kindness of your heart like the last time, are you?” You jibe teasingly, referring back to the time San had described your cooking to be akin to “fish innards”. Seonghwa assumes a perfectly innocent face faster than you can blink, piling slabs of perfectly grilled meat high on a tray.

“I didn’t lie. You did improve greatly… with plenty more room for improvement.”

You throw the pepper grinder at him playfully, but he catches it without blinking an eye and seasons the grilled meat to perfection. Now the food is finally done.

As if on cue, your stomach growls loudly and the door creaks opens to reveal Yunho, his head peeking in between the crack.

“Hey, hyung, is dinner ready?” He smiles that beagle like grin, hopping up and down excitedly on each foot as he sniffs the air hungrily. You swear that you had thought cooking was an easy job at first, but cooking for so many hungry men on board a pirate ship put fighting a battle to shame.

Seonghwa shakes his head good naturedly as he passes Yunho the platter of meat. “It would have been done a lot faster if you had offered to help, Yunho-ah.”

The lookout shrugs, but there’s a mischievous grin on his face that spells trouble. “I’ve got to leave you some job to do, otherwise you’d be useless on this ship, hyung.”

Seonghwa sputters in outrage and draws his meat cleaver, but Yunho ducks out into the galley stairway before the knife can find his head, the blade sinking into the wooden door instead.

“Come back here, you coward!” Seonghwa shrieks, but Yunho’s laughter only echoes down the hallway after him.

You raise a hand to your mouth to stifle your giggles, picking up the plate of vegetables and tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on, Seonghwa-oppa. Let’s go before all your steak is eaten.”

At the very horrifying thought, Seonghwa starts in fright and throws off his apron, before flying up the stairs so fast you would’ve thought the kitchen was on fire. Shaking your head in amusement, you climb the stairs after him at a more sedately pace, balancing the plate carefully in your hands.

The night air is cool upon your face as you step onto the main deck, a steady breeze tugging at your hair. You set the plate of vegetables on the deck and the crew all move forward to take their servings, thanking you one by one with smiles.

Your heart warms in your chest. You just want to stay this way forever.

“Woah, there’s chicken! And beef!” Wooyoung’s voice is right next to your ear as he glances over your shoulder at the menu for the night, clearly excited. You smile at his childlike excitement.

“You should eat before Seonghwa-oppa takes all the beef, Wooyoung-oppa.”

At your words, you see Wooyoung’s cheeks colour a little even in the dim light of the torches, making his face look rosy. He puffs out his cheeks at you.

“I know you’re just doing it to tease me, Chin Hae.” He tries to sound stern, but then an uncontrollable grin breaks through his pout. “But don’t stop doing it.”

You quirk your eyebrows playfully at him as you brush your hair out of your eyes. The wind really is very strong today. Wooyoung’s bright green eyes dart over to your hand immediately and his lips pull into a brief frown.

You’re about to ask him why the sudden change in expression when he reaches into your belt and pulls out the silver hairpin he’d given you so long ago that day in Tortuga.

“Wooyoung-oppa, what are you-” You begin to say, but then he moves behind you, gentle fingers gathering errant strands and brushing through your hair softly.

“Don’t move.” His warm voice whispers past your ear as he concentrates on twisting your hair together into some elaborate braid, tugging lightly before sliding the hairpin in to keep the knot in place. Satisfied with his work, he steps back, tucking one last strand behind your ear gently, fingers lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

You raise a hand to touch the hairdo in surprise. It’s actually very well done, a beautiful braid wrapping around itself to form a simple updo. You glance at Wooyoung in surprise, who’s smiling proudly at his creation.

“How are you so good at this, oppa?” You remark, stunned by his skill, but then you see his face fall minutely, a shadow flickering across his eyes. His smile turns a little sad, a little lost as his hands fall to his sides, the sound of the chains clanging strangely loud in your ears.

“Maybe I’ll tell you another time.” He shakes his head, but before your can press him further, there’s the strum of a guitar chord ringing through the night air. You glance behind you in surprise to see Jongho sitting there with an acoustic guitar on his lap, strumming a few random chords to warm up his fingers.

Wooyoung’s eyes light up immediately.

“Oh, they’re about to start a song!” He cheers, taking you by the arm and pulling you forward. You stumble after him as Yunho takes his place in the centre of the circle that the crew has formed, all shouting song requests to the younger battlemaster.

“They’re the battlemaster music team.” Yeosang whispers in your ear as he joins you and Wooyoung at the front, watching Yunho go around listening to the crew’s requests intently. You frown, but before you can say anything else, Jongho’s strumming suddenly picks up a lively tune.

“I can make your hands clap~”

Everyone on the ship claps in time to the beat and to your surprise, the crew all start chanting one name.

“Go Captain! Go Captain! Go Captain!”

Glancing about you, you barely spot your captain’s horrified face next to yours before Wooyoung grabs him by the arm and shoves him into the middle of the circle, the crew breaking out in a round of applause. Your captain looks around frantically with a chicken skewer hanging out of his mouth.

“Now come on guys, let’s not do this-” He begins, but then everyone starts whistling and singing along, and your captain in the end, with a defeated smile on his face, does some strange dance that looks as if he’s running on the spot, before he finishes off with an attempt at a handstand.

“You’re so cool, captain!” San screams and Hongjoong throws the skewer stick at him.

It doesn’t matter how silly he looks, because all his crew absolutely adores him and breaks out in cheers. With an embarrassed smile you’ve never seen on your captain, he hops out of the circle and pushes Mingi in instead.

You’ve never seen the silent quartermaster so energetic, because the second he steps into the circle he’s singing along and gesturing for everyone to follow him as he claps.

“I can make your hands clap!” And he can indeed, because everyone does imitate him, cheering and clapping along.

Yunho comes in with a some strange dance that involves hopping from one foot to the other while saluting, but it’s when Seonghwa is pushed into the centre of the circle, ready to dance his heart out, the music abruptly stops.

Seonghwa gives the biggest baby pout you’ve seen, and that’s almost enough to send you into fits of hysterical laughter.

There’s an awkward silence as everyone turns to stare at Jongho.

The maknae looks up from his guitar in surprise. “Ahh… sorry, I just thought one string was off key.”

But there’s a little quirk to the side of his mouth that you don’t quite believe.

The song switches up again and everyone’s back to dancing once more, Wooyoung jumping into the circle completely of his own volition, doing some “sexy” stretching that you’re laughing too hard over, shaking your head in amusement.

The night ends with Seonghwa breaking out a barrel of rum, announcing that he felt that the atmosphere was lively and they needed something to help the crew sleep.

He clearly doesn’t know his crew mates well enough.

San is doing the same ridiculous dance from before, except this time he actually managed to find two star anise herbs from the galley and put them on his chest. It fits your dream from before almost too accurately and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing.

Mingi is bawling his eyes out in a corner of the ship with a tankard of rum in hand, screaming to the skies and demanding that Hongjoong should be blessed with a better life. You smile in amusement and turn around to search for Yunho and Wooyoung, and there they are again, screaming drunken insults at each other from their respective masts.

From here you can faintly hear the same nicknames ‘Poo Young’ and ‘Yun Hoe’ drifting over the wind and an amused smile tugs at your mouth. Just as you’re considering going over to break up their argument, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

Surprised, you turn around to see Yeosang standing there, holding out a tankard to you with a smile on his face.

“Drink with me?”

You’ve never really drunk any alcohol before, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. Taking the tankard in hand, you look into it and are surprised to see a fruity juice inside instead of alcohol.

Seeing the confused look on your face, Yeosang explains. “I know you’ve never tried alcohol before, so I made a fruit juice earlier from apples and oranges and added just a little rum to it so you won’t get a hangover tomorrow.”

Your heart warms at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Yeosang-oppa.”

The two of you huddle together against the cold at the port side of the ship, the wood of the bulwarks shielding you from the biting winds. You lift the tankard to your lips hesitantly and take a sip, to your pleasant surprise, it tastes just like a well blended fruit juice, with just a tiny nip of alcohol to take the edge off the cold.

Yeosang has some hidden kitchen skills you’ve never known about.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until Yeosang finally breaks it.

“So, I heard that you gave up on your memories.”

You start a little in surprise, turning to look at the navigator. You’d never told anyone on board about what the sea witch had said, merely telling them that you’d die if you regained your memories, not wanting to tell them exactly how tempted you had been to do it anyway. Fortunately, no one had asked too much about it, but that Yeosang is finally confronting it, you feel like you should give him the truth.

“I really wanted to accept it, you know?” You murmur softly as you take another sip, watching the rest of the crew fool around the deck, laughing and singing drunken songs. It’s cold, so you curl a little closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. One of his arms comes up to encircle you, pulling you to him.

“I know.” He answers, and you know he does. Since the time the two of you had brushed death together, Yeosang can simply understand what you’re feeling like no one else, sensing the thoughts that pass your mind. You pause for a moment to sort out your thoughts.

“I thought I’d feel sad after I left the island, you know?” You whisper softly to him. You’re starting to feel a little drowsy, a warm heaviness settling over you like a thick blanket. “But I don’t regret it in the least. Not even a little.”

You can feel Yeosang’s smile more than you see it.

“I’m glad.” He says, and you know that he genuinely is. That’s the kind of man Yeosang is, pure, kind hearted, a gentle soul in every sense of the word. Your eyes close and you settle against him, basking in his warmth, feeling the buzz of alcohol in your limbs.

Yeosang hums a light tune and you feel yourself drifting off into sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

“Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me and other times I feel like I should go… and through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets, and when you’re gone we want you all to know…”

Apparently Yeosang also has some singing skills you’ve never known about either.

Yeosang’s voice is deep and soothing, washing over your ears. You’re clinging onto his words as you slip into your dreams, hoping one day you can see Jongho and he sing together.

You brought back into consciousness by a gentle rocking motion and the feeling of warm arms around you, something hard digging into your back. The person carrying you shifts a little, adjusting himself so that you’re nestled more comfortably in his arms.

“Did I wake you up?” His voice is soft in your ears and you merely curl deeper into him, burying your face into his chest, still in that sleepy stupor. He chuckles a little as he continues moving forward, raising a leg to unlatch a door expertly with his foot.

The door to the sickbay, you realise drowsily, as the person carrying you ducks inside, careful not to knock your head on the doorframe. His boots thump softly on the floorboards, an oddly familiar jingling sound in your ears.

It’s only when he sets you down on your bed do you realise who it is.

“Wooyoung-oppa?” You ask, a little too tipsy and drowsy to think properly. A hand reaches down to your hair and he slides the hairpin out of your hairdo, placing the accessory on the bedside table.

Wooyoung smiles fondly at you for a moment, even though you can’t see it, one hand running through your hair to free it from its braid. “No, it’s the dream fairy. Go back to sleep, Chin Hae.” With one last glance over his shoulder, he stands up and turns to leave, but then something stops him.

“Don’t go.” You mumble, one hand reaching up to catch his wrist. He freezes under your touch, squeezing his eyes tight against the memories that flood his mind of scarlet lipstick, painted nails dragging down his back leaving bright red marks on his skin. Scars upon scars upon scars, bruises and kisses over the same places on his body until there is no more space for more-

No. He forces those thoughts from his mind, willing the fear built into his body to understand. You’re different. You wouldn’t hurt him… you won’t hurt him. That’s why he lets you take his hand every time you reach for it with a smile, praying that you build new, brighter memories over the dark rooms and suffocating perfume that linger in his mind, hoping that one day, he might be free.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turns to glance at your sleeping form with a pained smile. Then he bends down, dropping a brief, chaste kiss to your forehead, before tugging the covers over you.

“It’s dangerous to say those kind of things to a man, you know.” He chides you gently, even though you’re already lost in your dreams, eyes shut, chest rising evenly with each breath. He still tells you this, even though he knows full well you’re not afraid of him in the least bit.

In fact, the one in danger of being hurt is probably him.

What are you doing to me, Chin Hae?

Wooyoung sighs in exasperation at his thoughts, shaking his head, but his thoughts turn to something darker. If even battle hardened Mingi had feared that part of him, if even Seonghwa and San couldn’t handle him, what more you? If he ever let you see the other side of him, if he scared you away… what would he do then?

“I can’t.” He whispers to himself. The words are like a weight in his chest, but they’re the truth.

He can’t ever let you see that part of him.

He sucks in a deep breath, bowing his head for a moment as he collects himself. He’s got to fight it, no matter what happens. He needs to only show you the happy, joyful Wooyoung, the Wooyoung that gave you the pin with an earnest smile, the Wooyoung that kept her safe in Nassau. He can’t let you see it. He can’t scare you away. He can’t hurt you, or he’d never forgive himself.

“I need to keep her safe.”


	42. Dreams

You’re lost in dreams once more.

It’s dark all about you, you’re swamped in pitch blackness, flailing helplessly. Uncontrollable panic surges in you like a wave and threatens to engulf you completely, but you force it down, looking around desperately, searching for a way out.

You can’t see anything.

Falling for an eternity in slow motion, you rotate about slowly as coolness sweeps over your body, leeching the warmth from your skin down to your bones. You’re descending, falling, sinking, into what, you don’t know, but then all of a sudden, without rhyme or reason, the fear deep in you clears, dissipating like smoke.

In the space of a single breath, you’re suddenly bathed in a dim, strange, red glow. You look up, bubbles escaping your mouth, and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

It’s the eye from your dreams.

It hasn’t changed one bit since the last time you saw it, still an unnatural, metallic shade of crimson surrounding a black circle in the very centre. The unearthly luminescence from it illuminates its form just enough for you to catch a glimpse of long, twisting tentacles, unravelling and curling around a shadowy form that blends with the darkness behind it.

It’s humongous, monstrous, in every sense of the word.

Shock bounds up in you, but for some reason, the fear you expect never comes. Instead, by instinct, you reach out for it with your lips parted in awe, taking in the magnificence of such a strange, yet beautiful monster.

The light coming from the crimson eye shifts and bends, strange, chilling sounds in your ears as a low, keening cry reaches you. The call is eerie and haunting, high enough to send blood-curling shivers down your spine and yet at the same time low for you to feel the vibrations in your chest.

“He’s cominggggg…”

The words simply drift into your mind as a low, pained wail swirls around you, a ghostly groan that makes every hair stand at the end. The crimson eye continues staring unblinkingly at you, beseeching you to understand. There’s a hint of raw desperation in the creature’s call, but it’s so real you can feel your own heart sinking in your chest.

“He’s coming for me…”

Your breath catches in your throat, an invisible noose tightening around your neck that chokes you of all the air in your lungs. Fear, cold as ice, slithers down your back and spreads to the very tips of your fingers and toes, numbing your body.

“And he’ll come for you nextttt…”

The cry rises in volume, getting louder and louder until it’s reverberating in the water all around you, ringing in your ears. Your mind doesn’t know what’s going on in the least, but some sort of foreboding awakens in you, deep and primal in your body, clawing its way into your lungs and tearing painfully at your heart.

You’re terrified to the very core.

“Runnnn…” The voice whispers one last time, begging you, before darkness swirls around it and engulfs it, yanking it back into the depths where light from above can never reach, lost from you forever.

You start awake, heart racing in your chest as you heave for breath. Your fingers are numb and frozen with fear, and when you glance down at them, you realise they’re trembling uncontrollably from terror.

What was that?

A splotch of merlot suddenly blossoms on the rough cloth of your blanket like the fallen petal of a blooming rose and you stare at it for a moment, stunned. Another dot of crimson, another blotch of scarlet and you raise a hesitant, quivering hand to your nose.

When you pull away, there’s a smear of red on the back of your hand.

You sigh.

Another nosebleed, you shake your head, pulling the handkerchief Seonghwa had given you before to wipe the blood from your hands, attempting to clean the crimson smudges on your blanket, but to no avail. You follow San’s instructions, pinching your nose at the bridge and tilting your head forward, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

The sound of your master’s light snoring echoes around the small room the two of you share as you wipe your nose once more. The light trickle of red is gone now, much to your relief. You’d hate to make a mess.

Glancing around the dark cabin, you see your master on the bed opposite yours, completely knocked out cold from the alcohol. Speaking of alcohol, you frown, staring down at yourself and the bed you’re in. Confusion clouds your mind for a moment.

How did you get here?

The last you remember, you had fallen asleep against Yeosang on the main deck. Maybe you had walked here, half asleep and a little drunk, all on your own? Then you cock your head to the side for a moment. No… that doesn’t seem quite right, but what other explanation could there be?

It’s the dream fairy. Go back to sleep, Chin Hae.

You frown at the odd words that spill over into your mind, shaking them off. You probably got quite drunk, to the point you started imagining things. Dream fairy? You snort at yourself. You didn’t know your mind was that creative.

Your hand reaches up into your hair, but it’s surprised to find the hairpin missing, your hair in loose waves around your face and neck. Panic descends on you as you spin around to look for that silver hairpin, but then you’re relieved to find it sitting obediently on your bedside table, safe and sound.

Breathing a soft sigh of solace, you tuck it into your belt securely. Right there, where it belongs.

You glance back at your pillows, tempted to return to sleep, but then a little nagging feeling tugs at your mind. You search around in your consciousness, trying to figure out exactly what it is, but it’s like searching for something in an empty room. You sigh, moving towards the door. Maybe you’ll take a short walk on the main deck. The sea air should help clear your mind.

Unlatching the door, your footsteps echo in the lonely night. The deck is completely empty of people, your crew mates all having retreated back into their bunks in the lower deck. There’s evidence of their intense partying from the night before, tankards strewn across the deck, the odd article of clothing lying here and there. You even recognise one of your master’s boots hanging from the yardarm of the mizzenmast, although how it got all the way up there, you don’t want to know.

Seonghwa is going to have a field day cleaning all of this up in the morning.

You shake your head and are about to go into the kitchen to grab a drink of water when you hear soft humming coming from above you at the forecastle deck.

You start a little at the noise. You may not be as alone as you thought, after all.

Your feet carry you up the stairs to the upper deck, curious to who you might see there. To your surprise, the first thing that catches your eye in the gloom is a bright red jacket, then the back of a neatly kept mullet.

It’s your captain.

He’s seated cross legged on against the railings with a blanket in his lap and a bottle of alcohol in hand, head tilted back to gaze at the night sky above as he hums a soft tune. Hongjoong must hear your footsteps on the floorboards, because he abruptly stops whistling and turns around to glance at who it is. When he sees that it’s you, he straightens up and smiles a little, beckoning you over to join him.

You don’t turn down the offer, silently seating yourself next to him.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You hum in agreement as you slide next to him, curling yourself into a ball to preserve body heat. The nights have started to get colder, you realise, rubbing your hands on your arms to keep yourself warm. A little strange, San had told you a few days ago, but there was just no explaining nature sometimes. Your captain, ever observant, glances at you for a second.

“Cold?”

Nodding, you blow on your fingers to keep yourself warm, but to your surprise Hongjoong lifts the blanket from his lap, putting it around your shoulders. You’re about to insist he keep it for himself because he’s the captain and he must be feeling cold as well, but he merely joins you under the blanket as well, huddling together like two penguins in the cold.

You smile gratefully as him as he takes your cold fingers in his warmer ones, rubbing them to get the blood flowing through once more.

“What about you, captain?”

Your captain exhales softly through his mouth as he takes a swig from his bottle, whiskey, you read off the yellowed, peeling label on the side. “I’m having dreams. Ones that confuse me.”

Curiosity spikes in you a little and you turn to look at him. It’s similar to what you’re experiencing, so you think you can empathise with him. “What dreams?”

The alcohol must have loosened your captain’s tongue, because he spills out everything to you without the least bit of hesitation.

“I keep having the same dream repeat over and over again.” He breathes into the night air, his words forming tiny white puffs that dissipate before your eyes. “It’s the same deserted island my father abandoned me on as a child.”

Coldness creeps over your heart as his words, clutching it tight. You didn’t hear him wrongly, did you? “Abandoned?” You repeat, unsure whether you’re the one who’s drunk instead. Mingi had told you, back on that pink sandy beach in Eleuthera, that Hongjoong had been tied to the mast of his uncle’s ship as a child, but you had never paused to consider how your captain had ended up there in the first place.

Hongjoong either ignores the plain incredulousness of your words or doesn’t take any notice of it, taking another swill of his drink, swirling the bottle around as he begins to speak once more. “My father called me a half breed and brought me on a voyage. When we reached the island, he threw me onto the beach and shot me in the head. The bullet hit me here.” He taps his eye patch absentmindedly. However, it’s not the words he speaks, instead, his voice is what shocks you the most. It’s completely devoid of anger or resentment, almost frighteningly neutral, as if he’s speaking about the odd weather and not how he’d almost died at the hands of his own father.

“I remember passing out, blood gushing everywhere from my eye.” He reminisces, oblivious to your horrified stare, lost in memories of long ago. “I thought I’d died, but then I woke up again, with this knot in hand.” His hand reaches up to his collar to tug at the short length of rope tied around his neck, the final knot left there a grim reminder of your mishaps back on Nassau. “That’s all I knew happened.”

Then suddenly he reaches up to bury his hands in his hair, anxiously running his fingers through the blonde strands. You’re a little worried, but before you can ask him what’s wrong, he continues speaking, the words flowing from him completely unfettered.

“But I’ve just been having these dreams lately, ever since we left the sea witch’s island.” He rambles, fingers drumming on the floorboards nervously. You frown, afraid that the magic of the island may have affected him somehow, but he simply continues speaking before you can ask him about it.

“I see this every time I close my eyes.” He chatters on, waving his hands in front of his face for extra emphasis. This is a side of your captain you’ve never seen before, Hongjoong tends to be quiet and keeps his problems to himself. Wooyoung had once joked that your captain is more tight lipped than an oyster with a pearl when it comes to his issues, but you’re glad to be able to be there when he lets himself loose a little. “A woman… with silver hair the colour of sea foam in the moonlight, curling like ocean waves over her shoulders.”

You baulk a little at the overly dramatic description, but Hongjoong laughs derisively at himself, taking another long drag of alcohol, coughing a little before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m being a little poetic with all this nonsense right now, aren’t I?” He asks no one in particular, setting the bottle down on the ground with a heavy thunk. “She tells me something, but I can’t for the life of me remember her face. Is this what you feel like all the time, Chin Hae?”

Yeah, he’s definitely drunk. Your captain is never this open in front of you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him speak about his troubles to anyone, even though he’s someone the crew goes to with their problems.

But you don’t think this is the right time to tell him what you’ve noticed, so you merely nod in agreement. “Yeah.”

He squeezes his eyes tight like you’ve done so many times, searching his mind for a memory that simply does not exist there any longer. “She keeps telling me ‘Please wait. I promise that I’ll have one that you know one day’. I just… I don’t understand.”

The words are strange without a context and you glance at your captain’s half lidded eyes and pout as he takes another sip. He looks like a small, curious child once again, pondering the mysteries and secrets of the infinite world around him through innocent lenses, even though he’s seen and probably caused a lot more bloodshed and death than you could ever imagine.

You’re reminded of the word duality. Both your captain and Wooyoung seem to be epitomes of it, genuinely kind-hearted and sweet people one moment and the next… honestly, you don’t know. After thinking about it a few days back about Mingi’s words, you had realised that even though you’d stayed with them for quite a while so far, you’d never gotten to see a glimpse of their rumoured ‘dark sides’.

Not that you want to have a reason to see it, but you must confess that you’re curious.

“What exactly don’t I remember?” You captain continues running his mouth and you listen thoughtfully, nodding your head. “It’s eating away at my mind all the time and I just don’t know what to do… I think that woman saved my life and I want to find her somehow, but I don’t know how. Chin Hae, how do you deal with it?”

You’re shocked out of your own thoughts when your captain suddenly addresses you, and you chew your lip as you try to think of a suitable answer. “Well…I just distract myself with work, I guess… I mean, I made the choice to give up my memories, so there’s no chance of me ever getting them back. I just sort of… gave up.”

Your words are bordering on incoherent as you try to explain yourself, but Hongjoong seems to get it anyway. His lips twitch a little on his face, adorable as a bunny, before he turns to look at you with a genuine, free smile that you never see on his face except when he thinks he’s alone, steering the ship at the wheel.

It feels like getting hit by a galloping horse in the chest, but it’s one you’re happy to get run over by.

“Thanks, Chin Hae.” He grins brightly for a moment. His eyes are a little clouded over with alcohol, his usually sharp green eye softened around the edges as he looks at you. Then he yawns, stretching his arms above him, and the blanket falls from his shoulders. “I think I’ll be able to get a good night’s rest now. I should have spoken to you sooner.”

You’re a little embarrassed, because you barely did anything and your captain is thanking you already. But you can’t bear to argue with him when he’s got that innocent, guileless smile on his face, so you merely nod in return.

“It was my pleasure, captain.”

At that, Hongjoong pouts as he gets to his feet, swaying a little before he catches his balance. “Oh come on, Chin Hae. That’s just mean. You’ve started calling everyone oppa except for me~” He whines, puffing out his cheeks as he stares at you with an upset look. You shake your head, but your heart flutters for a moment at his child-like gaze.

Yep, definitely drunk.

“We should get back to sleep.” You smile, feeling like you’re babying your fearsome captain for a moment. He makes a ‘hmpf’, crossing his arms with a pout, but he gets up anyway and the two of you walk back down the the main deck in comfortable silence. When you reach the captain’s cabin, Hongjoong turns back to look at you once more with a pleading expression, his hand lingering on the doorknob.

You cave. Just this once, then.

“Goodnight, Hongjoong-oppa.”

At that, a happy, unrestrained smile breaks out on his face, too joyous to be something just warranted from a simple calling of his name. But it makes him so delighted, you can see, and for a moment you wonder if you should just start calling him by name to see this expression on him once more.

“Goodnight, Chin Hae.” He replies, rocking back and forth on his feet happily. Then he gives you a heart stopping smile, one that you feel literally just ripped your heart from your chest and stamped it into a million pieces. “Sweet dreams.”

Then he slips into the cabin, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Shaking your head at your own thoughts, you laugh quietly to yourself. Who’s the one being overly poetic now? You step into the sickbay, making your way to the room you and San share. To your surprise, your master is sitting up on his bed, blearily rubbing at his eyes as he clutches his Shiber plush to his chest, before his gaze finally lands on you.

“Why are you awake, master?” You ask, sitting down on your own bed to glance at him. He’s probably still half asleep, from the way his head keeps lolling forward cutely, eyes never lingering on your face for long. His voice is a soft, cute rasp, thick from sleep.

“I woke up and you were gone.” Is his only explanation as he catches himself before he nods off. “I was waiting for you to get back.”

Your heart warms at your master’s sleepy face as you lie back down on your bed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” San asks drowsily as he scratches his green hair, letting out a little yawn. You smile at his thoughtfulness.

“I had a bad dream-” You begin to say, but then San stands up abruptly, still yawning, moving over to you. You frown in confusion as he crosses over to you, sitting next to you on your bed. “Master?”

“Go to sleep.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around your middle and tucking his face into your shoulder blade. With the other hand he puts something soft and pillowy into your arms, his precious Shiber plush, you realise with shock. When you glance back at your master, he squeezes you tighter, eyes already shut tight. “Goodnight, Chin Hae.”

You pull Shiber to your chest, leaning against your master as his soft breathing tickles the shell of your ear.

“Goodnight, San.”


	43. Black Crow

It’s a fine day once more.

The morning sun shines down upon the Treasure, its golden rays touching your cheeks as you glance up at the sky. It’s been peaceful the last few days, and you’ve heard from Yeosang that your captain has begun considering sailing back to Nassau so that Seonghwa can visit his childhood friends Seohyun and Soobin.

The cook’s been in a much more cheerful mood for the last few days after hearing those words, excited about seeing how their baby is coming along. He can’t stop gushing to you in the kitchen about how cute he thinks the baby is going to be, worrying endlessly whether they’re going to be alright, to the point that you’ve resorted to stuffing bread rolls in his mouth to keep him quiet so that he can focus on his cooking.

You don’t him to end up with two less fingers like Soobin.

After preparing breakfast with Seonghwa, you’re now seated in the rigging swaying back on forth with the wind, letting the sun warm your face as you prepare for another day ahead.

“I can’t wait to get back onto dry land.” Yunho comments with a groan from above you on the main mast, hanging upside down from the ropes. You glance up at him with a smile, shielding your eyes against the sun.

“I’m sure Jongho could always throw you overboard if you’re sick of being on the ship.”

High pitched laughter comes from beside you and you turn to see Wooyoung swinging over from the mizzen mast, grinning as he steps over to you, expertly keeping his balance on the yardarm. He’s surprisingly steady on his feet, considering the last time you’d seen him yesterday, he was screaming drunken insults about Yunho’s apparent pea sized brain for not understanding how the mizzen mast was the better of the two. He bows mockingly, gesturing to the sparkling ocean far below you.

“Maybe you’d like to go for a swim, your majesty?” Wooyoung jibes, barely able to keep the snicker out of his voice. The lookout tosses his shoe at his friend and Wooyoung ducks easily, catching it in his hand.

“Be silent, you knave.” Yunho grumbles, now missing a shoe. Reclining against the ropes, he gazes at the horizon with a steady eye, body bobbing up and down with the pitch and roll of the ship. “I still haven’t forgotten the last time you pushed me off the yardarm to save your own ass and I fell into the sea because of you.”

You raise your eyebrows as you glance at a shamelessly grinning Wooyoung, who is neither denying nor confirming it. Knowing the head gunner, however, it’s probably… no, definitely true. “How did that happen?”

Wooyoung opens his mouth to answer, but before the silver tongued charmer can say another word, Yunho cuts in, obviously knowing full well Wooyoung is going to twist the story upside down to his own advantage.

“We were on the main mast, arguing about how the main mast is obviously the better mast,” Yunho begins with a haughty tone, ignoring Wooyoung’s cry of indignation. “When San was at the wheel he stupidly beached the Treasure on the shore and the whole ship jerked. I, being the better rigging monkey, caught my balance, but Wooyoung-”

You unconsciously grip the ropes beneath you a little tighter, suddenly wary of falling off the mast yourself. Ahh. So that’s why no one on the ship trusts San with the wheel. You sometimes wonder how they even trusted him with their injuries in the first place.

“I’m a better rigging monkey than you!” Wooyoung splutters in outrage, but Yunho flat out pays no attention to him, continuing with his tale. “As I was saying, I caught my balance but Wooyoung fell. I was reaching down to save him, but then he grabbed my arm-”

“I didn’t need any saving-”

“And I fell off instead! It’s twice as bad because he stayed on the mast and I didn’t!”

“I was perfectly capable on staying on the mast myself, thank you very much.” Wooyoung grumbles, but Yunho isn’t listening to him in the slightest. In fact, he’s so pumped up with ranting that he’s starting to wave his long arms around like a windmill, complaints spilling from his mouth completely unchecked.

“And do you know what else he did? During a battle at sea, he even jumped onto the main mast on purpose! My precious main mast! The crow’s nest got blown off, you know? That’s like the head of the mast!’

You’re starting to lose Yunho to this silly argument, having no idea where this is going.

“Why is it Wooyoung’s fault the main mast got hit?”

Yunho stares at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because he’s so ugly everyone tries to shoot him.”

“What did you say, Yun Hoe?” Wooyoung screeches in the background like an offended pigeon. “Haven’t you forgotten that time you grabbed onto the mizzenmast sail and ended up tearing a huge hole in it? You defiled my beautiful mizzenmast and exposed her for everyone to see!”

You’re utterly lost from this conversation now, baffled as to why any of this matters in the first place. “Come on, guys…”

“You blew the mainmast’s head off!”

“You shamed the mizzenmast in front of the whole crew! The disgrace, Yun Hoe, the disgrace-”

“Oh yeah?” Yunho actually looks furious now, drawing his cutlass from his side. Panicking, you turn to Wooyoung, expecting him to use that glib tongue of his to somehow worm his way out of the antsy situation, but you’re shocked to see that he’s drawn his own blade as well, looking every bit ready to fight Yunho.

“Come at me, Yun Hoe!”

“It’s on, Poo Young!”

Sighing at their antics and the sheer stupidity of it all, you turn around to glance at the sea before you. It’s the same as before, an endless expanse of shimmering, deep blue as clouds drift past the horizon, sun shining-

Wait.

Frowning, you block out the sounds of Wooyoung and Yunho’s ridiculous squabbling, leaning forward to squint at the delicate line separating the ocean from the sky. Puffs of white clouds are rolling across the blue sky, but there seems to be a patch of white moving in a different direction from the others.

“What’s that?” The words leave your lips in a mutter, but Yunho hears it even over his argument with Wooyoung. His eyes narrow warily even as he sheathes his cutlass, stepping over to you.

“What is it?” He asks you and you point far into the distance, trying to understand how that one white shape is moving towards you instead of away from you, like the rest of the clouds are.

“That cloud is acting weird.” You tell him, feeling Wooyoung step towards you from behind, curious as to what is happening.

Suddenly, Yunho stiffens next to you, staring at the white shape. Frowning, you turn to ask him exactly what has gotten him to tense, but Wooyoung seems to realise it as well, fingers tightening on your shoulder unconsciously, all traces of his argument with Yunho vanishing in sight of the odd cloud.

“That’s not what I think it is, am I right?”

Yunho chews on his lower lip. “But why would any of ship be out here?”

You finally realise it now. The white shape that’s growing in size is actually a sail, starkly contrasting against the blue sky behind it. A chill runs down your back as you lean forward unconsciously, trying to catch a better glimpse of it, but Wooyoung pulls you back before you can fall over.

“Wouldn’t want you taking a dip now.” Wooyoung tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s obvious that he’s worried at what the sight of this white sail could mean, considering it could be a simple merchant ship or even a Royal Navy frigate.

The three of you wait with baited breath as the ship grows in size.

Then suddenly, as if they can read each other’s minds, Wooyoung and Yunho both freeze at the same time, the very tension in the air sends a shiver down your entire body. You turn to glance at the two of them, confused as to why they’re acting this way.

“What is it?”

“It’s them.” Yunho spits as he stares at the horizon, seeing the snowy white sails crest the waves. You frown, unable to see as clearly, leaning forward and squinting to see what exactly could be causing your two fellow rigging monkeys so much distress.

Wooyoung curses, baring his teeth as he leaps to the ropes as fast as he can. “I’m going to tell Captain.” With that, he slides to the main deck with an urgency you’ve rarely seen in him, in such contrast to his usually easy-going and cheerful self.

But then you catch sight of it and your own eyes widen in horror.

On the sails fluttering in the wind is a red shape, starkly contrasting against the snow white background.

The same sigil decorating the shoulders of the coat you had woken up with.

The symbol on the red wax seals of Lucio’s letters.

The emblem of a crimson rose.

Your heart sinks in your chest.

It’s the Royal Navy.

“Damnit.” Yunho curses under his breath, fingers tightening on the handle of his cutlass. He’s afraid of what this might mean, for the crew and for him. How did they find you here? Was it simply by chance? Or have they been tracking you somehow? “We’re going to get into a huge battle again. I hope you’re ready for a fight, Chin Hae.”

“Is it stupid to hope that they’re not here to kill us?” You mumble under your breath but Yunho snorts, shaking his head.

“We literally all have bounties stamped on us. There are rewards of up to five hundred gold pieces for our captain’s head. Fifty for each crew mate. Two hundred for San. Two hundred fifty for Jongho and I. Three hundred for Mingi and Wooyoung.” He exhales shakily, staring as the blood red rose grows ever closer. “If they don’t want to kill us, I’ll eat my own shoe… and Wooyoung’s at that.”

You laugh nervously, trembling fingers seeking his and gripping tight as you watch your impending doom. “Want to raise the stakes?”

“I’ll even admit the mizzenmast is better.” Yunho mumbles uneasily under his breath. Just as he says those words, the sound of a iron bar being struck repeatedly rings throughout the air and the deck floods with activity, the crew swarming to the bulwarks to search for the impending threat. He pushes you lightly to the ropes. “You should go. San will want you with him when the action starts.”

Nerves rise up in you, but you force it down and slide down the rigging, careful not to burn your hands on the ropes from friction. You drop onto the deck, making your way to the quarterdeck where you had last seen your master.

To your surprise, Yeosang is there as well, Mingi at the stairs bellowing orders to the crew to ready the cannons and prepare for battle. You hear the sound of the cannon carriages being wheeled to their spots, the powder monkeys running about in organised drills to ferry the gunpowder to their guns. All of the crew are readying their weapons for battle, suiting up and loading their muskets.

Tension runs high in the air and adrenaline in your veins as you step to the railing, where Yeosang and San are. Wooyoung must have headed to the gunwales to handle his powerful cannons, the long nine and the 42 pounder, the two most deadly and lethal weapons on the Treasure. San reaches for your hand nervously, squeezing it tight.

“Are you scared?” He asks, and you don’t bother lying to him.

“Yes.”

You hate the way your voice cracks even though you’ve been in battle twice already, once with the Royal Navy before and the other on Nassau. You wish you were braver than this, but you can’t stare death in the eye without the slightest whit of fear like your captain and Yunho and Jongho can.

Yeosang takes your other hand, and even though his face is ashen and pale, he still pats your hand comfortingly.

“Don’t worry.”

You’re reminded of the first time you had been attacked by a Royal Navy ship near Tortuga, Yeosang too, had taken your hand and told you not to worry. The difference this time though, was that you were no longer just a amnesiac girl who had to be protected by Jongho, but a person reasonably well versed with the cutlass and musket, who had experienced dangers and could help people around her with her healing ability.

You just hoped it would be enough.

“Yeosang-ah, can you tell anything about the ship?” Your captain calls from this wheel, his voice eerily calm as if they aren’t on the verge of a massive battle. Yeosang leans forward a little, squinting as he tries to make out distinctive features of the ship.

“It looks like a standard Navy ship, about fifteen cannons down each side on the upper deck. A three masted frigate with no battering ram and it relies on sail power, not on rowers. But…” Yeosang’s voice trails off in shock and you glance at him in worry.

“But?”

You had thought that Yeosang was already pale from fear, but then all at once every drop of blood seems to drain from his face, leaving him white and bloodless. His fingers tighten on the railing of the ship, mouth falling open in horror and pupils dilating in fear as he stares at the approaching ship in shock.

Concern floods you. “Yeosang-oppa?”

“The flag they’re flying…” Yeosang breathes, barely above a whisper. “It’s a black crow.”

San stiffens.

“What?”

Hongjoong somehow manages to hear that over all the noise coming from the main deck, because he whirls around in shock to look at the ship coming from the stern, instructing Mingi to take the wheel. His boots click on the deck as he makes his way over to the three of you, his one green eye narrowing in fury as he stares at the approaching dark shape. His anger radiates him like some sort of black miasma that’s poisonous to the touch, the very air around him almost acrid with sour rage.

“How dare he…” You captain seethes, before turning to Yeosang. “Yeosang, are you alright?”

But the navigator only continues to stare at the ship in shock, unresponsive to his captain except a mumbled ‘yeah, I’m fine’ that no one believes.

You’re confused as to why this ship seems to have such a massive psychological impact on Yeosang, but then San tugs on your hand lightly, his usually bright eyes grim.

“That’s the ship Yeosang’s father captains.”

Memories rush back to you, from that night you had decided to heal Yeosang with your very life force. An officer with a single, golden monocle, thin lips pulled into a permanent scowl, a white scar above his brow bone, golden patches on his shoulders.

Commander Kang. Captain of the Royal Navy ship the Black Crow. Yeosang’s father.

The man who’d abandoned his only son to bloodthirsty pirates and had left him for dead.

“Oh shit.” You mumble under your breath, realising the gravity of this situation now, how it not only crosses the physical boundaries but also the emotional and psychological. You take Yeosang’s hand in both of yours and clasp it tightly, hoping to offer some comfort, but he doesn’t seem to register it, eyes still fixed on the ship.

Then something catches your eye that makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Are they… are they seriously hoisting a white flag? A parley flag?” You spit out in shock, and your captain stares at the Black Crow, utterly furious at the sight and yet completely bewildered by this abrupt change of events from what he’s used to. A Royal Navy ship offering to parley with the Caribbean Sea’s most wanted pirates? That was wholly unheard of in the whole of maritime history.

“Are they mocking us?” You hear San growl under his breath, obviously incensed, but you must have gone a little crazy from the mixture of shock and terror, because an unsteady little giggle leaves your mouth, your hands trembling from both suspense and trepidation.

Your master glances at you, obviously concerned. “Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?”

Another near deranged chuckle spills from you as you shake your head, mind as blank as the parley flag being hoisted from the foremast.

“Oh no…” You begin, unsure what to say, every thought fleeing from your mind as the dark shape almost looms over you in your imagination. “It’s just that…”

Another uncontrollable laugh escapes you.

“Yunho needs to eat Wooyoung’s shoe now.”


	44. Commander Kang

“I still can’t believe they want to parley.” Yunho whispers to you in shock, standing next to you on the main deck as you watch the little rowboat grow closer and closer to you, bobbing on the surface of the deep blue sea. There’s a growing sense of trepidation in you as you watch it draw nearer, Mingi ordering a group of men to lower ropes into the water to pull the rowboat up.

From the bulwarks, you can see six people on the rowboat, a sign of neutrality and peace, Yunho had told you. Worried by how Yeosang might react to seeing his father, Hongjoong had sent the navigator to the galley and told him to stay there until someone called him up. Wooyoung had… well, gone with him. Your captain didn’t tell you why, but curious as you were, you had sort of resigned yourself to the fact that you would never know.

“You have to eat Wooyoung’s shoe now, you know?” You mumble out of the corner of your mouth, trying to distract yourself from the terror you feel. Yunho swallows nervously, eyes fixed on the rowboat as it stops next to the Treasure.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

“…You also have to eat your own shoe.”

“I don’t recall any of that.”

“And you have to admit the mizzenmast is better.” You end off, fingers wrapping around his wrist. You’re shaking from nerves, but you don’t have to say it, Yunho can feel it in the way your hand is as clammy a dead fish around his.

You know Seonghwa is somewhere in the rigging with a loaded musket, ready to blow a hole in the head of any troublemaker, that the crew of the Treasure outnumber the people on the boat by several times, but part of you is still worried, a sinking feeling in your chest that borders on sheer paranoia.

“We should just kill them as soon as they step onto the ship.” Mingi mutters as he strides over to all of you, Hongjoong’s expression carefully smoothed into a neutral mask in preparation to meet the man in charge. From what Yunho has told you, the enemy captain is likely to be Commander Kang Yongsun, a prominent captain of the Royal Navy’s pirate hunter force, someone who specialises in hunting down pirates in exchange for monetary rewards offered by the Crown.

He’s also Yeosang’s biological father.

Your captain sighs, gripping his cutlass tight. “They did put up a parley flag, though.”

Snorting, the quartermaster jabs a thumb at the Black Crow floating just far off enough to not be considered a threat, its jet black shape looming against the bright blue sky like a blot of ink on paper. “Has the Royal Navy ever not want to kill us?”

“That was what I thought.” Yunho mumbles uneasily, his spear in hand as he fidgets with the shaft. Your own hand rests on the hilt of your cutlass, adrenaline already buzzing in your veins as you anticipate the fight that might probably come.

“They’re likely to be plotting something. And whatever it is, it’s not going to turn out well for us. It could be a trap. We should just blow them out of the water now. I’m sure Wooyoung could do it easily.” Mingi continues to reason insistently with his captain, probably feeling the same sinking sense of foreboding as you are. But your captain doesn’t respond to his quartermaster’s warnings, instead simply gazing at the rowboat silently with his single green eye.

When he speaks, his voice is solemn.

“I’m aware it could be a trap, Mingi. I’m not a fool. But I doubt the Commander would be foolish enough to come to us without an irrefusable bargain.” Hongjoong says as he looks straight ahead, not looking at any of you. “Besides, they did put up a parley flag, and I’m not going to be the one to break the vow.”

“We did it all the time in the past though.” Mingi reminds his captain softly, his voice reminiscing of those days of long ago that they had been a merciless pirate crew, from the stories he had told you about the last time. Your eyes widen. They had ignored the white flag? Preyed on ships that had been on the verge of surrender? Destroyed vessels that had put up the universal symbol of parley, massacring entire crews without mercy?

Yunho stiffens next to you, obviously remembering their sordid past as nothing more than despicable law breakers, and you feel your heart sinking. Exactly what kind of people had the crew of the Treasure been before you had come to the ship?

You glance at your captain for a moment, wondering how he would look like with a sadistic smirk in place of his usual, soft smile, whether his viridescent eye would gleam poisonously with corrosive venom instead of burning with the eager desire to live out his life like a blazing inferno that you know.

The thought scares you more than you dare to admit.

But now, there’s a contrite, almost sorrowful expression on his face, his green eye unfocused and lost in the past for a moment, and deep inside you, you feel your heart twist in sympathy for the man who has too many regrets to count.

“We’ve changed our ways.” Hongjoong finally answers honestly, watching as his crew work to haul the rowboat up the side of the ship. Yunho and Mingi remain silent in their guilt, but you can see their captain’s words lifting a burden they never knew they had off their chests. “We’re different now.”

The rowboat reaches the bulwarks on the port side and six people step out of the small watercraft.

With those final words, your captain steps forward to meet the infamous Commander Kang.

Your first impression of the commander is one of intimidation.

Kang Yongsun is not at all a tall man, in fact, he’s dwarfed in size by some of your taller crew mates on the Treasure. He’s lithe, slimly built with nothing too daunting about his stature, but the first time he looks upon you, even if it is merely a sweeping glance over the ship, sends a chill running down your spine.

You can, without a doubt, see Yeosang in him physically. They have the same razor sharp jawline and facial structure, similar noses, identical soft lips, but that’s where the resemblance ends. For all the similar features they share, their eyes are completely different. Not so much in the physical appearance of it, the deep brown hue of their gazes are nearly identical, but Yeosang’s eyes are infinitely kinder, softer, something that you can’t help feel grateful for.

Kang Yongsun’s eyes are as piercing as those of a bird of prey, staring down his next victim with a silent, lethal confidence that you have no wish to fall prey to. Even though he’s surrounded by hostile crew mates, all brandishing all manner of weapons at him, he doesn’t seem to be the least bothered by it, and perhaps that’s what scares you the most of all.

His escorts surround him immediately as soon as they step on board, cutlasses in hand and at the ready in case of any threat. One of them though, doesn’t seem to be wearing the same uniform as the rest of them do, a hood pulled low over his eyes, hiding his face in shadow. Instead of the customary cutlass that most seafaring men carry, there’s a massive longsword in his hands that looks like it could do some serious damage.

Your captain steps forward to meet him, Mingi and Jongho flanking him. The younger battlemaster is hefting a heavy iron bar mace over his shoulder, while Mingi holds onto his double sided battle axe, the edge glinting cruelly in the sunlight. Your captain hasn’t drawn any weapons, but his hand rests on the handle of his musket, ready to fire at the first sign of any danger.

“Kang Yongsun, captain of the Black Crow and vice-commander of the Royal Navy’s Red Rose pirate hunter fleet in service of her Majesty the Queen and the Crown. State your name, pirate.” One of his guards spits haughtily, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually speaking to what society considers the vermin of the seas. Mingi scowls, grip tightening on his weapon, but Jongho lays a hand on the quartermaster’s shoulder, a silent request for him to keep his cool.

Your captain merely sighs in exasperation, completely unruffled by the man’s imperious tone. “Kim Hongjoong, captain of the Treasure. What is your business with us?”

The guard who had addressed your captain earlier scowls furiously, beginning to brandish his cutlass at your captain. “You impertinent scum, speak with respect when addressing the vice-commander-”

But before he can get any further, there’s a razor sharp blade resting against his neck.

“Don’t test my patience.” Mingi growls, his deep voice a rumble in his chest that sends a frightened shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen a bear before except in books that San has showed you, but if you had to imagine one’s snarl, it would be something akin to Mingi’s voice now. He holds the weighty axe with so much ease it almost deceives you into thinking it weighs nothing more than a toothpick, but from experience you know that you can barely lift it with both hands, let alone hold it steady like Mingi is now.

The man squeaks in fear, pupils dilated as he eyes the blade so dangerously close to his neck. One second of tense silence passes, then another, then-

“Rumil, stand down.” The commander says smoothly, and the guard, though quivering in both terror and rage, sheathes his weapon. Hongjoong then turns around to speak quietly to Mingi, and with great reluctance, the quartermaster lowers his axe as well, although his eyes never leave the vice-commander. The man turns to look at your captain with cold, carefully neutral eyes.

His next words shock you out of your mind.

“Captain Kim, I have come to offer you a deal.”

You have to give it to your captain for not reacting in the least, because Yunho’s jaw practically smashes into the deck next to you. There’s the moment of stunned shock, the crew barely able to believe what has just left the commander’s mouth.

A deal? The Royal Navy wants to make a deal with pirates?

Maybe you haven’t heard them correctly, because you can’t have heard them correctly.

Your captain holds up a single hand in the air and the entire deck falls silent in response, waiting for their leader to speak. Hongjoong meets the commander’s steely gaze with a skeptical one of his own.

“Why would the Royal Navy want to make a deal with us?” It’s small, almost completely undetectable, but you can hear the tiny note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

“We need several things that are currently in your possession.” The commander states simply, as if the two of them are not mortal enemies who’ve been at loggerheads with each other since the very beginning. You can see Hongjoong stiffen slightly and you flinch, from Yeosang’s memories, he must be talking about the navigational charts that Hongjoong took from him.

But your captain keeps his cool, folding his arms as he looks at the commander seriously. “And what would you offer us, commander, in exchange for what you want? Our freedom?”

At his jibing words, the deck erupts into nervous, derisive laughter. You almost want to follow, but you’re too tense to do so. Even then, you recognise the absurdity of your captain’s words, there’s simply no way the Royal Navy would offer the most wanted pirate crew a pardon from all the crimes that they’ve already committed. You may not know the full extent of what they’ve done in the past, but your captain is the Pirate King of the Caribbean for a reason.

“That’s ridiculous.” You hear Yunho mutter under his breath and you can’t help but nod in response. “As if the Royal Navy would ever-”

“Exactly.” Commander Kang answers calmly.

For the second time that day, you feel like you’ve gotten slapped in the face with a dead pollack.

What.

The entire crew hushes in a split second, clearly as shocked as you are. The silence rushes through everyone on board, plunging the deck into eerie silence as that one, single word sinks into all of their minds.

Freedom?

Briefly, you imagine a peaceful life for them. Yeosang as a bookkeeper in an archive, being able to read all the books he desires to, gaining the knowledge he’s so hungry for, Yunho finally being able to put down his spear, never having to fight another day in his life ever again. Your master opening a small apothecary, venturing into the forest every morning with Shiber at his heels to search for rare herbs and plants, bringing back the occasional spice for Seonghwa, who’s opened his very own eatery and comes up with creative new dishes for Hwaseong to try every week.

You dream of Jongho being the fisherman he’s always wanted to be, taking after his father’s footsteps and sailing the sea in a tiny boat, humming to himself as he casts his nets. Hongjoong sitting on a beach, overlooking the sea as he writes tales of his times as the legendary Pirate King, Mingi pointing out his spelling errors and inaccuracies as Wooyoung comes up to the two of them with cups of hot tea in his hands and a bright grin on his face, his wrists finally free of the shackles that have bound him for so long.

For a moment, that yearning is so powerful, so strong, that you would give almost anything to let them have that life. One of happiness, joy and peace, free from bloodshed and battles and running from the Navy. If anyone deserves it, you think, it’s them.

Next to you, you can hear Yunho’s sudden intake of breath. He must be as shocked as you are, because his spear nearly falls from his grasp as he stares at the commander. Even your captain’s facade seems to have cracked a little down the middle, his one green eye wide with surprise.

But then Hongjoong fights to keep his voice steady, fingers flexing on the handle of his cutlass as he eyes the commander with a dubious gaze. “And you would offer us what sort of freedom, exactly?”

“All previous charges held against you and your crew by the Crown will be completely cleared.” Kang Yongsun speaks without a trace of falsehood in his voice, as if what he’s saying is the complete and utter truth. It’s so silent you could hear a feather fall to the ground, the crew hanging on to his every word even if some part of them doesn’t dare to believe such good news. “As long as all of you do not commit any crimes against the Crown after receiving the pardon, you will be free men even in the territories of her Majesty the Queen.”

If it is possible, Yunho’s jaw crashes even more to the ground. At this point, it could probably break a hole in the deck.

Commander Kang turns to face your captain, whose mouth is hanging slightly agape in shock. “As the captain, her Majesty would like your service as one of her battle strategists against dealing with other piracy problems in the Caribbean waters. You will be paid in full for your work, with the prestige that comes with being a senior officer in the Queen’s own service.”

You almost can’t believe your ears. These words are too good to be true! This deal is almost irrefusable, and even your captain looks like he’s about to be swayed for a moment before he catches himself, rational mind whirring furiously.

“Freedom…” You hear Yunho whisper under his breath and you glance at him, only to see him with the broadest grin ever on his face, his eyes uncontrollably bright. “We’re going to be free people, Chin Hae!”

You can barely find the right frame of mind to answer him, the word freedom echoing over and over in your mind. All of you can be free! Make an honest living with your own hands and establish your own lives, normal lives, as free people, not as fugitives running from the law. But your captain’s word interrupts your train of thought.

“Wait.”

Glancing up, you see your captain’s face suddenly set in suspicion. He must feel like there’s something off, because there’s no way the Commander would offer them such a fair trade if he isn’t about to get something of bigger worth in return. Hongjoong’s jaw clenches as he looks at Commander Kang with slitted eyes.

“What exactly do you want from us, commander?”

Commander Kang shakes his head. “It’s very simple, Captain Kim. All I ask from you are four things; the maps you stole, which in the end you would have to return anyway as it is considered property of the Crown. Another thing I need is the knot around your neck with which contains the sorcery required to cause a hurricane.”

You gasp in shock. How would the commander know about this?

Your captain obviously feels the same way, because his fingers immediately tighten protectively around the short length of rope there. “How did you know of it?”

“Back in Nassau, the Head of Port Investigation, Leon Bastiville reported that his attempt of arresting one Kim Hongjoong and his crew was thwarted when you, the captain, undid a knot that caused a strong wind to blow your ship away from the harbour.”

A shiver goes down your spine at the mention of that man. You remember the heat of his breath as it ghosted over your ear, the coldness of the gun pressed to your temple, the cries of your captain as he had been flogged before your eyes. From the tightening of your captain’s mouth, he obviously remembers it too, one hand reaching up to touch his shoulder unconsciously.

San may have healed the wounds well, but his body recalls the agony of the whipping.

“I didn’t take the Royal Navy for one to believe in superstitions and sorcery.” Mingi hisses, clearly still quite unconvinced that the Royal Navy is here for an honest exchange and the mention of Leon doesn’t make him any friendlier. But Commander Kang turns to him, eyes narrowing.

“My superior commander has studied several ancient literary sources. They all state that the rope in your captain’s possession is a Legendary Treasure of the Sea, spoken about in many historical texts and containing enough power to rival that of a divine being.” Kang Yongsun then turns to look very deliberately at your captain, who is staring down at his rope necklace in shock, as if he can’t quite believe that this simple knot in his possession is capable of such damage. “However, if you do accept this pardon, there would be no need for you to have such a dangerous artefact, so you might as well give it up to me.”

You see your captain swallow. This knot is precious to him, you can tell. It’s his last link to the person who’d saved him so long ago on that deserted island when he’d been abandoned and shot in the eye by his father. But what is he to do? Exchanging it for the freedom of all his crew mates… is it worth it?

“You mentioned another two things.” Hongjoong fights to keep his voice steady, staring down the commander. “What else do you want from me?”

At that, something prickles at the back of your neck, a chill sweeping over you as the hairs on your arms raise uncomfortably. You don’t know how to describe this feeling, but the next best thing you can say is that you feel like someone has just walked right across your grave.

You soon find out why, because the Commander turns slowly, before raising a finger at the thing he needs from Hongjoong. Simultaneously, everyone’s mouth drops in sheer shock at the absurdity of his request, or they flare up in rage from the outrageous nature of his demand.

“He’s crazy.” Yunho whispers in a daze from next to you, his wide eyes meeting your own terrified ones.

“I want the woman you have on board.”

He’s pointing straight at you.


	45. Revelations

The stunned silence brought on by the ludicrous request is broken by Commander Kang actually adding on to that preposterous behest. Even in your own stupefied daze, you somehow manage to hear the next words that leave the commander’s mouth.

“I also want my son, Kang Yeosang.”

Every thought flees your mind all at once, leaving only a barren mental landscape behind, a mere deserted wasteland. Time seems to slow down for you, air turning liquid as the words drift over to you gently like a fallen leaf swirling and eddying on the surface of a still lake. A moment of eerie calm is all you get, before the actual meaning of the words, with all the force of a sledgehammer, smash into you harder than a battering ram.

You’re terrified.

Numb, predatory fear prowls into your mind, nestling and rooting itself there before you can finally register its presence. It’s tormenting you, torturing you. Your base instinct screams at you to flee as fast as you can possibly run before this man can get his hands on you, but your legs are frozen to the deck. You can’t even scream if you wanted to, let alone run, and even if you could, where would you run to?

Your mind is pulled and twisted by fear and anxiety in all directions, but as much as you hate to admit it, doubt wells up in you.

Yes, you know that the crew think of you as one of their own. Yes, you think that they truly do care about you and that they would, under some of the harshest circumstances, never sacrifice you for their own interests.

But in response to this deal? The reward is too enticing, as alluring as fresh nectar to a honey bee. How do you even refuse an offer like this? Hell, you’re tempted to take the deal yourself, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. One crew member of the ship for the safety and security of the entire crew? When will you ever get another offer like that?

However noble you may want your intentions to be, though, you know that you’re selfish.

Because deep in you, you’re desperately wishing that your captain turns it down.

No matter how selfish that makes you, no matter what your crew has to give up, part of you is terrified of dying. It’s more than a mere survival instinct, more of a deep seated desire rooting in you. You can’t die, not now, not when you’re nowhere near the end of your journey-

At your own trail of thought, something claws at your heart, so painfully you actually feel it in your body. Shocked panic runs through you at the words that have just passed through your mind, because when you try to figure out exactly what they mean, the pain in your head grows more and more, from a mere throbbing to an agonising pounding of your mind.

Journey?

But before you can think your brain into a catatonic state, your captain speaks up, his voice trembling with fury, knuckles white around the handle of his cutlass as if he can’t wait to slice the man before him into a million tiny pieces. Even if it’s not aimed at you, the incensed, red hot rage is all too clear in his words, sending a shiver down your spine as your survival instinct screams at you to bolt.

“What. Do. You. Want. With. Them.”

Every syllable is shaking with vengeful fury, as if he can’t wait to rain hell’s wrath upon the Commander, but Kang Yongsun merely stands his ground calmly, eyeing the captain with a cool, collected gaze.

“I want my son back with me for personal reasons-” He begins, but San finally snaps, lunging forward furiously before Jongho catches him by the arm, yanking him back even though you can see from the battlemaster’s furious expression, he wants nothing more than to bludgeon the man before him to a bloody pulp as well.

“How dare you call him your son that after you were the one who abandoned him in the first place?” San screams, writhing against Jongho’s grip, his usually calm demeanour completely shattered into smithereens. For such a lithe man, your master is surprisingly strong, nearly wriggling out of Jongho’s hold before the young battlemaster catches him once again. “You f*cking destroyed him when you betrayed him like that! You’re a heartless liar!”

You too, can feel anger rising up in you even through your numb shock. From the little you had glimpsed of Yeosang’s memories, the navigator had truly looked up to his father, loved him dearly though he’d gone years without seeing his face, idolised him, even. When he had been given over to the Pirate King as the object of a deal, you had felt everything within him shatter like glass.

Yeosang had truly almost been destroyed beyond repair.

“It is not my problem that Yeosang was foolish and believed that I loved him.” His father states dispassionately, as if he doesn’t care the least about his only son. Horror and disbelief runs through you as you stare at the man. How can any human being be so… inhumane? “I never told him I loved him, so I’ve never lied to him in the least.”

Your heart drops in your chest. This man…

“Let me go, Jongho, let me kill that bastard! He thought you loved him!” San continues howling in rage, thrashing against the younger battlemaster. You’ve never seen your master in such an uncontrolled manner, and he’s not even drunk. “Yeosang almost starved himself to death the first few months he was on the ship because of this shithole, I’m going to kill him-”

“Mingi, bring San to my cabin and help me keep him there for now.” Your captain says coldly, obviously noting that Mingi’s barely restraining himself from swinging that huge axe and chopping Commander Kang right in half, seething with white knuckled fury. The quartermaster, clearly knowing that he’s going to do something reckless if he stays here any longer, merely grabs San around the middle and hoists him into the air, carrying him away from the main deck to the captain’s cabin, San screaming and swearing the whole way.

“And don’t you dare touch my apprentice! I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and destroy you, you asshole-”

The cabin door slams shut, effectively cutting off the sounds of your master’s fury.

Then your captain turns back to the commander, who looks completely unruffled by San’s accusations and screams. For a moment, you’re actually terrified at how stony this man’s face is. His facade is as cold as ice, to the point it almost unnerves you. It’s nothing like the silent calm Yeosang possesses, but he instead has a far more menacing, emotionless demeanour, as if he’s more golem than you are.

You imagine yourself like that, briefly, for a moment. A body of clay, with silent, unblinking, dispassionate eyes. More soulless than any human being around you.

The mere thought of it scares you.

“And what do you want with Chin Hae?” Your captain then adds on with gritted teeth, barely managing to cling on to his own facade of calm. At the sound of your name, your hands start to shake from fear, but then Yunho takes your hand in his, gripping it tight.

You turn slowly to look at him, knowing that you probably look like the day you had first met, terrified of the death that was ever so imminent in that alley back in Raguza, except this time your fate lies not in your hands, but your captain’s.

Yunho meets your eyes with a nervous, uneasy gaze, but when he speaks, his voice is full of surety.

“Hongjoong-hyung would never give you or Yeosang up, no matter the price.”

And you believe him. Your captain had already endured so much for you and the crew, if not him, who else could you possibly trust with your life? His actions spoke louder than words, with his body he had already shown you his dedication to his crew back in Nassau. With the determination he had plunged straight into the sea witch’s den, you knew he was willing to give up so much for you.

Yes. Your captain would not accept this deal. You believe that, at the very least.

“I cannot answer.” Commander Kang answers calmly, but from his words alone you can tell he’s not lying in the least. “My superior officer has ordered for it, so I obey his orders without question.”

“Like a obedient dog cowed into mindless submission.” Jongho snarls mockingly, grounding the end of his mace against the deck. But Kang Yongsun doesn’t react to the sneer at all, instead nodding in agreement with the statement.

“I do my job as required of me.” He replies, his voice completely devoid of emotion, before turning back to look at your seething captain, his one eye now a bright, venomous green. “But even if you do not give the woman Chin Hae up to the Royal Navy in a deal, we will still be forced to hunt her down anyway. She has a bounty on her head as well.”

At that, Hongjoong actually flinches in shock. You yourself are confused, why would you of all people be targeted specifically by the Royal Navy? In comparison to all the other members of the crew, you’ve not committed as many crimes as they have, so why you?

“How much is it? The bounty.” Your captain demands tonelessly, and Commander Kang opens his mouth to answer.

And with his next words, you feel your mind melt into a puddle of incomprehension.

“One thousand gold pieces.”

You nearly spit blood in shock, and from the way Yunho’s body goes entire rigid, he’s just as stunned as you. One thousand gold pieces, you imagine blearily, as if you can’t think straight anymore. You must be going crazy.

It can’t be possible. You’d heard from Yunho that the bounty on the captain himself is five hundred gold pieces, wanted alive by the Crown. How can your bounty be twice the price of your captain’s?

That’s it. You’re either dreaming, drunk, going deaf or crazy, because you can’t be hearing any of this. None of it makes sense.

Commander Kang continues calmly, as if he hasn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the century on every person on board this ship simultaneously. “And our orders are to take her back alive, so you needn’t worry about her being killed in our hands-”

Hongjoong lunges with his cutlass faster than your eye can see.

There’s a clang of steel against steel as Commander Kang raises his blade just in the nick of time to save himself from being split from head to toe by the edge of your captain’s sword. Even for a man well past his prime, the Commander must obviously still be fighting fit, because his arms only tremble slightly when he holds his sword steady against your captain’s overhead slash.

They stand there for a moment, locked in some sort of stalemate, before the two of them pull apart, swords levelled at each other.

You realise that this is the first time you’ve seen your captain in action. Not the playful mock duels that he, Yunho and Jongho have on deck with the crew cheering them from the sides, betting on who would win, but an actual fight in which your captain’s eye is completely cold and calculating, reading his opponent’s every move, predicting every strike. Adrenaline floods your veins from the sheer tension in the air, but you’re frozen with numb shock.

Nobody moves as the two captains exchanged dark looks, charged to the brim with unspoken meaning.

“I should kill you where you stand.” Hongjoong hisses, lips bared in a snarl. But Commander Kang simply smiles through gritted teeth, keeping his blade at the ready for another surprise strike from your captain.

“But I’m the only one who knows why the Royal Navy wants the woman.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your captain so incensed.

“Her name. Is. Chin. Hae.”

Whirling around, Hongjoong lunges forward with a flick of his wrist, the cutlass darting out like a snake’s tongue, ready to cut at least some part of his opponent’s sword arm off, but then the hooded man from the side slides between your captain and the commander in the blink of an eye, the longsword in his hands stopping the cutlass dead in its tracks.

The hood falls from the man’s head, revealing soft brown curls, soft, sweet features and a gentle nose, deep brown eyes that seem all too familiar to you even though you’ve never seen the man before in your life. 

Why are they so familiar?

Because you’ve seen them on someone else before.

There are three rings braided in his hair, brushing his temple lightly.

Next to you, Yunho freezes, eyes going wide as if he’s seen a ghost. The spear actually goes clattering from his trembling hands to the deck, the sound unnaturally loud in your ears, his face turning white as a sheet as he manages to utter just a single word in disbelief, barely above a whisper.

“Gunho?”

 

 

On a ship somewhere in the middle of an ocean, a man sits silently in the cabin with his eyes closed.

He’s so still he might just be a statue, completely motionless. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been mistaken for a dead body. A minute passes, then two, the water clock in the corner making soft noises as it keeps track of the time.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes slide open, a sinister smile curling on his lips as he breathes in deeply, resting his chin on his fingers, the picture of calm and composure. However, his eyes dance with a terrifying, maniacal light, his deep blue eyes glowing ever so slightly in the dim room with some sort of unearthly gleam.

“The prophecy is finally coming to pass.” He sighs in pleasure, the dangerous purr of his voice like silk dragged across skin. “I knew you would do me proud… my son.”

There’s a knock on the door and he rises to his feet, stepping across the room. Soon, he will be free of all of this, he deserves more, so much more, he’s going to be the one with dominion over the-

“Captain! We’ve caught its trail!”

Twisted, depraved glee rises in him as his fingers dance on the hilt of the silver knife at his side excitedly. He pushes the door of the cabin opening, the sun’s rays crushed under his feet as he steps forward to the main deck, watching the sea of blue all about him.

He drags his tongue against the blade, a deranged grin on his lips as he seeks out his next prey. The sirens are easy targets, but they don’t yield nearly enough.

“Let’s go kill the hafgufa.”


	46. Surprise

At that one word, everything in your mind evaporates.

Gunho?

You don’t know how many times you feel like your brain has been reduced to a weak, steaming pile of mush, but you’re very sure about this, just one more bombshell dropped on you and you might as well just slip into a comatose state for the rest of your life.

You’re familiar with the word, most of all from Yunho’s lips. The lookout speaks of old tales about his brother nearly every day, recalling fond stories about their time in the arena, how their brotherhood blossomed, especially so in the bleakness of the arena. You’re well versed with the tales of how the two of them had looked out for each other, watched each other’s backs, grown up to become comrades and best friends.

In the rigging, you had listened to him recall days of training and fighting as the three of you, you, Yunho and Wooyoung, had worked to raise and adjust the sails together. When the wind was constant and the weather was good, all of you would sit in the ropes and listen to Yunho talk. You had not much past to speak of and Wooyoung steered clear of speaking about any history of his, thus his tales entertained the two of you greatly and helped to pass the time. You didn’t mind, the lookout was a good speaker, peppering his stories with funny anecdotes and often poor attempts at acting which always brightened your mood.

But behind every happy tale, there had been a lingering sadness in Yunho’s eyes, a pained smile to the end of every story, an unspoken, sad conclusion to what should have been a beautiful chronicle of brotherly kinship.

Gunho’s death had weighed heavily on Yunho’s mind, you know, from the way his eyes sadden minutely every time you bring him up on accident. Yunho prefers remembering the happy, good times with his brother, when the two of them had been together, but the thought of his brother always brings up a single fact that he can never ignore.

He had been too late to save his brother.

It’d been like a bitter pill for Yunho, hard to swallow and even harder to accept but he’s done it already, biting back his tears to face the big, wide world with a positive, cheerful smile. He’s supposed to have moved on already, putting the past behind him as he continues to move forward… but you doubt that he would have expected for his past to be dredged up again once more, upturning everything he had once believed.

Gunho is alive.

It’s as if time stands still for a moment as the once hooded man straightens up to stare at Yunho in surprise, sword nearly falling from his grip from the shock of seeing his older brother after so long. Deep brown meets deep brown as the two of them simply take in the appearance of the other, as if they can’t really believe that fate was kind enough to let them cross paths once again in this lifetime.

You’re almost ecstatic for Yunho, knowing that this must be the most heartwarming reunion that you’ll ever have the luck to witness. A grin pulls widely at your face as you turn to look at Yunho, who’s simply gazing upon his brother in disbelief. Slowly, you see him blink, once, twice, as if trying to prove to himself that this really isn’t a dream, before his jaw clenches and you see a single tear spill over his eyelashes and down to his cheek.

“Gunho… you’re alive?” Yunho chokes out, voice overcome with emotion and the brown haired man looks as if he’s been snapped out of some sort of daze. A blinding, dazzling smile of sheer joy spreads over his face as tears rolls down his own cheeks.

“Brother, I’ve been searching for you so long!”

Hesitantly, Yunho looks over to his captain, who looks just as stunned as everyone else on board is. Then he nods, slowly, and Yunho is stepping forward slowly, as if still in a daze. Gunho throws his longsword to the side in his excitement and runs straight into his brother’s arms, embracing him tightly.

The moment the two of them meet, the entire crew seems to heave a sigh of relief. There is no one on this ship who doesn’t know exactly how dear Gunho was to Yunho, or how much Yunho regrets not being able to save his younger brother from that godforsaken arena. But now, even if it had to be through this terrible meeting with the Royal Navy, Yunho can be reunited with Gunho.

Something warm blooms in your heart as you watch the two of them hug, squeezing the life out of each other.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.” Yunho sobs into his brother’s shoulder, now that you see them side by side, Gunho is shorter than Yunho, more stocky and built as compared to Yunho’s taller and longer stature. Gunho nods, one hand reaching to pat his brother on the back reassuringly as his other reaches to his belt.

And something sinks in your chest.

“I missed you so much.” Gunho rests his head on his brother’s, voice soft and soothing, rocking Yunho back and forth gently as Yunho continues to cry, shaking his head and mumbling incoherent apologies into Gunho’s shirt. “I really do love you… brother.”

What happens next is almost too fast for you to see.

You don’t think anyone could have expected it, really. Not a single person on the ship could have possibly even guessed in the slightest that this was coming. Even though it happened right in front of your eyes, you merely stood there in shock and watched as everything seemed to fall apart in that one split second, unable to move, mind incapable of processing the events that had just happened.

One blink of an eye, the two brothers are embracing.

In the next, Yunho is crumpled on the deck, blood gushing from his side.

For a moment, no one moves.

Incomprehension.

Shock.

Disbelief.

What?

It’s a razor sharp knife, the steel drenched in dark red blood. Your eyes, wide with terror, follow the weapon as Gunho merely raises the blade to his mouth, licking the blood off the knife while he looks upon his brother writhing on the ground with what you can only describe sick, twisted amusement.

“Oh? I didn’t think you’d be on guard enough to react so quickly around me. And here I thought you were glad to see me again, brother.” Gunho merely sighs as if disappointed, shaking his head as his tongue darts out to catch a little smear of blood at the corner of his serene smile. “But then again among of the two of us, you were always the lucky one, weren’t you?”

Yunho chokes in pain, a muffled scream ripping from his throat as he curls into a ball, crimson spilling over his fingers and staining the deck red with his blood.

His brother turns around, facing Commander Kang as your brain tries to understand what has just happened, but it’s failing miserably. “Let’s go, Commander.”

Nothing makes sense to you, you manage to think blankly to yourself, as the world pitches and rolls around you. Absolutely nothing. But one thing you do know, that you’ve been trained to do ever since you stepped onto this ship, is to treat the wounded, and you know that Yunho is going to die if you don’t get to him as fast as possible.

But you’re terrified. Your master isn’t here, he’s in the captain’s cabin, together with Mingi, there is no time for you to call him, and you will be utterly alone. There will be no one to instruct you, to make choices for you, to share the responsibility with you.

If Yunho dies…

For a moment, you so desperately just want to stay rooted to the spot in fear. But you do know that every second you think, Yunho’s life drains away little by little, and with a curse, you throw all rational thinking to the wind. Hurrying forward, you tear your outer shirt from your shoulder, kneeling at Yunho’s side as you inspect the wound as fast as possible, trying to remember everything your master has taught you through the haze of panic.

The second you spring into action, your captain moves too, pulling his musket from his belt as he takes aim at Gunho, eyes narrowed with blazing fury.

But Gunho doesn’t seem intimidated in the least, simply smiling amicably and sliding the knife back into the belt as if he hasn’t just stabbed one of your crewmates in the gut in an attempt to kill him. Hongjoong’s fingers tighten on the trigger.

The crew too, begin to stir into movement, raising their weapons to fight, but then one voice cuts through the noise.

“Hongjoong, no!”

Only his true name, shouted so desperately by one of his closest friends, could have any chance of stopping your captain in the blind rage he is in. His green eye is clouded over with pure, undiluted wrath, the usual flames in his gaze fanned to a blazing inferno. Normally, you realise, no one would have a chance against him when he’s like this.

But then, it’s Yunho telling your captain to stop. Yunho, who’s just been stabbed by his long lost brother, one who he had once thought the world of. Yunho, bleeding out and dying next to you.

He can’t bring himself to kill his younger brother.

And because it’s Yunho who tells him to stop, Hongjoong does. But you can see every muscle in his body just screaming to pull the trigger, but he holds steady, the barrel of his musket trained at Gunho’s head.

“Why did you do that?” Hongjoong snaps, his voice somehow ice cold yet burning with rage, every syllable is ringing with fury. Gunho merely shrugs, a cheerful, remorseless grin on his face that honestly is starting to look a little deranged to you.

“Just a little siblings’ spat, captain. Nothing too much to worry about.”

Breathing, you recall, your eyes snapping to Yunho’s face as you check him over. He’s panting, gasping from the pain as his fingers press against his wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. There are tears of agony in his eyes and you start ripping your overshirt into strips, pressing your makeshift padding against Yunho’s wound.

At the pressure, Yunho cries out in agony, the sound tearing at your heartstrings. You try your best to ignore the sound of one of your best friends sobbing right next to your ear, but each cry is so heart wrenching you wish you could just cut off your own ears to stop the heartrending sound. With Yeosang, it was a lot easier to just treat his wounds as he was nearly unconscious from blood loss, but with Yunho writhing around screaming in anguish right next to you as you press down hard on his wound?

No amount of training with San could have prepared you for this.

You glance upwards, seeing Seonghwa drop from the ropes and sprint across the deck to your side, crouching next to you as he takes in his friend’s ashen face. Heart racing in your chest, you take one look at the wound and you know simply stemming the bleeding with your pathetic replacement of actual bandages isn’t going to be enough. Making up your mind as fast as you can, you turn to Seonghwa. “Tell San to get here as fast as he can and grab my healer’s bag from the sickbay.”

The cook doesn’t even bother giving a nod in response, pushing through the crowd on the deck and racing to the cabin. A second later, your master bursts out of the door, face white with horror as he catches sight of Yunho on the ground. Then he’s by your side, checking Yunho’s breathing and pulse as his critical eyes rake across the wound.

“Stab wound, about two and a half inches wide. Serrated on one edge, and deep, but likely to have missed all his vitals organs.” San rattles off as he moves to inspect the wound more carefully. “Pulse is weak, but the blood isn’t pumping out, which means it luckily didn’t hit an artery. But he seems to be in too much pain for a wound this size…”

Then his face turns ashen in realisation and he leans in to sniff the wound, before his eyes widen with horror. You feel your heart drop in your chest at your master’s expression.

“The wound is poisoned.”

Your captain hears San’s words over the din and all of a sudden, you feel every hair stand on the end at the sheer anger that’s rolling off your captain in waves. Hongjoong’s fury almost seems like it’s on the verge of setting the very environment around him ablaze, every survival instinct screaming for you to get up and run away from him as fast as you can.

“Where is the antidote?” Hongjoong snarls, grip tightening on his gun, but your heart sinks at the words. Somehow, deep in you, you can already guess where it is. Gunho merely laughs like a tinkling bell, tilting his head to one side as he grins at your incensed captain with an innocent smile that might just be the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why you got to be so serious about this, captain? The antidote isn’t with me right now.” Gunho sighs, shaking his head as Commander Kang steps towards the rowboat they had come from, followed by the guards. At the bulwarks, he turns to smile at his brother one last time. “I hope you live, brother. It’ll be a lot more fun killing you slowly that way.”

You can’t help but stare at the younger Jeong brother in shock as he simply turns around and steps off the ship, not the least bit concerned about the muskets all trained at his back. Commander Kang eyes all of you coldly from the rowboat.

“Meet us on the Cayman Islands when you’re ready and bring along the four parts of the deal. The antidote will be there. Harm us in any way and the deal is off. I expect to see you there soon, captain.”

With that, they simply lower themselves to the sea, disappearing from your sight.

You now know why they had the audacity to step aboard this ship even though they were so vastly outnumbered. Your captain can’t possibly kill Commander Kang or Gunho. He needs them alive for answers and to save Yunho’s life. And it seems like such a cruel joke, that you and the crew have all been played along like this, like marionettes on a string.

Hongjoong screams in fury, his fingers tightening so hard on the musket that his fingers go white.

Why? What does the Royal Navy want with you?

Two months ago, on the sea witch’s island, you had chosen to give up your memories. Two months ago, you had decided to walk down the path with your crew mates and family instead, leaving your history behind you as you started on this new journey.

But now?

It seems like that elusive past is finally begin to surface, bringing with it all sorts of dangers and darkness that you hadn’t once thought existed.

And you’re terrified at what is to come.


	47. Painkiller

In the relative silence of the sickbay, you and San fight to save Yunho’s life.

The two of you work silently, switching out blood stained bandages for clean ones, Seonghwa running between the galley and the infirmary to wash the soiled paddings as you and San try desperately to stop the bleeding. The wound may not be big, but it’s deep and from San’s deductions, it’s poisoned, and that’s probably what worries the two of you the most.

The metallic tang of blood hits your nose as you toss one bloodied bandage into a basket, reaching for a fresh one and pressing it to the wound. Underneath your hands, Yunho moans weakly in pain, his face ashen and a thin sheen of cold sweat on his forehead. At the side, your master is at his worktable, furiously mixing a complex concoction to slow down Yunho’s heart rate and hopefully knock the injured battlemaster out while the two of you tend to his wound.

“Is he going to be fine?” Seonghwa whispers to you as he takes the basket of soiled bandages for the third time already, glancing worriedly over at the limp form of one of his oldest friends on the bed. Honestly, you’re not sure how to reply.

“It’s not the wound that we’re worried about, actually.” You murmur softly under your breath as you pour whiskey onto the cloth, cleaning out the wound the best you can. Yunho’s head falls back as he whimpers softly in pain and you murmur soothing words to him, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes. “It’s the poison.”

“But Sanie is familiar with poisons.” Seonghwa tells you as he rests his hand on Yunho’s forehead. It’s clammy to the touch, a sign that the poison is already taking its effects on him. Usually, it would be a simple task for San to look through his extensive book of poisons and simply find a cure, but this time…

San doesn’t know what poison it is this time.

You don’t know what to do either. You don’t have the experience with poisons to be able to help your master in this area, so the only thing you can do is assist San by dealing with the physical wound while he tries to figure out exactly how to save Yunho’s life.

Sighing, Seonghwa looks over at Yunho with weary, resigned look, patting his younger crewmate gently. In that one action, there are a million words left unsaid, the weight of the his emotions for his friend settling over to you, a tidal wave of concern, pain, sadness.

“Please be okay, Yunho.” Seonghwa murmurs one last time, before he rises to his feet and leaves the room with the basket under his arm, unable to continue looking upon the still form of his weakened crewmate. You can understand how Seonghwa feels, you yourself can barely bring yourself to glance at Yunho’s sallow, pallid face, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“Here.” San finally steps over to you, handing a small bottle of freshly mixed painkiller. You swirl it around a few more times and the potent pungence of it hits your nose, causing your eyes to water as your master reaches for Yunho’s head, tilting his mouth open with his thumb.

Sidling up next to him, you very carefully hold the bottle over Yunho’s trembling lips, dribbling just a little of the concoction into his mouth.

At the first drop, Yunho coughs and splutters, choking on its bitter taste and you immediately panic, worried that the painkiller might have gone down his windpipe instead. Your master, already expecting something like this to happen from experience, rushes to lie him back down, patting him gently as he reassures Yunho with soft words.

“Don’t worry, Yunho-ah, all you need to do is drink this little painkiller and you can go right to sleep.” Your master’s soft words drift over to your ears as you search for a way to make the painkiller easier for Yunho to ingest. “No more pain… yes, you can just rest.”

“It hurts…” Yunho whimpers softly, like a feverish child reaching for his mother, except this is so much more severe than just that. Your heart almost shatters at the weakness of his voice, but you force yourself to hold it together for his sake, squeezing your eyes shut against the tears that threaten to fall. “It hurts so much…”

“I know, I know.” San cooes sweetly to him, his voice taking on a honeyed, gentle tone as he beckons you over with a finger. “Just drink this and it’ll make all the pain go away, alright?”

Once again, you press the bottle to his cracked lips and this time Yunho drinks it all like a dehydrated man, as if he’s desperately seeking any relief he can from the pain the poison is causing him. Every drop slides down his throat as San rubs his back soothingly, whispering encouragement and reassurance to his crewmate. In seconds, the entire bottle is drained and you take it from him, moving to the work bench to prepare for the next phase in the healing process.

Behind your back, you hear San humming a lullaby to Yunho, but even over his voice you can hear Yunho’s breathing begin to weaken, from sporadic pants to soft, even breathing. Terror wins out for a second and you whirl around to look at him, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you fear that this may be the last time you see him conscious, and that he may truly never wake up from this sleep.

But Yunho’s eyes are already closed, chest falling and rising evenly as he falls into a deep slumber right before your eyes.

A sob chokes its way from your throat before you can help it and a pathetic whimper escapes you, the tears you’d been holding back so long finally rolling down your cheeks. San immediately rises from Yunho’s side and pulls you into a tight embrace, your face nestled in his shoulder as you cry quietly.

Your master gives you a moment to let all your emotions out, his hand patting you on the back gently. Silently, you feel warmth staining the collar of your shirt and you hug your master a little tighter, both of you afraid, petrified, terrified for Yunho’s life, but at least you’re together, and somehow that makes it a little easier to breathe.

After a while, the two of you finally collect yourselves. San holds you by the shoulders, one hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your cheeks as he forces a smile on his face.

“Let’s save him, Chin Hae.”

The two of you move in tandem. San moves to stem the bleeding of the wound in Yunho’s side as you prepare the needle for the stitching, wiping it clean with alcohol before heating it over an open flame. Next, you thread it carefully with fine silk, before passing it to your master.

His fingers fly over the injury, the tweezers in his hand pulling the needle through Yunho’s skin as your master works to close the wound. After a few moments, the gash is completely closed, and you pass San a roll of clean bandage which he uses to bind the wound.

When all is done, the two of you heave a simultaneous sigh of relief. You’ve done all you can, the rest is left to the gods now.

The two of you sit down side by side on the bed opposite Yunho’s, watching the injured battlemaster sleep peacefully in grim silence. San wraps an arm around your shoulders to comfort you as he starts to give you the diagnostic for the wound and you sink into his embrace, desperately needing his warm presence to ground you before you burst into tears again.

“He’s been stabbed in the side, but I have confidence that will heal with time. We can always treat physical wounds with our healing abilities.” San tells you quietly as you rest your head on his shoulder. “What I’m worried about is the poison. I collected a sample of the poisoned blood on the mouth of the wound, but it might take me a few days to run tests and determine what compounds are in it.”

“Why can’t we use our healing abilities like we did with Yeosang, though?” You whisper quietly, as if trying not to disturb Yunho’s sleeping form. San’s brow pinches in frustration.

“We could heal Yeosang’s wound in one shot because it was a physical wound, so all we had to do was focus our energies onto that one area. But Yunho has been poisoned and the toxins have spread around his body through his bloodstream. We can’t manage such an intricate repair where we have to fix every part of his body, and even if we could, the poison would still remain in his blood and continue doing damage.”

You swallow at the bleak words. “So you’re saying the only thing we can do is wait for his body to flush out the poison on its own? Or create an antidote, but we don’t know what poison it is?”

San nods. “The painkiller I gave him should knock him out for a while and slow down his heart rate so the poison doesn’t work as fast, but do you have any idea how long we might have before the poison kills him?”

You flinch at the word, but you rack your brains. Think, Chin Hae, think! For a moment, you can recall nothing, but then a thought forms in your mind.

“Commander Kang said to come to Cayman Islands if we wanted the antidote, so that must mean the poison is a slow affecting one, am I right? He wouldn’t have said that if Yunho’s just going to die in a few days.”

San pauses a moment to consider your words, before he heaves a slight sigh of relief. “I guess that’s true… although coming out of the mouth of that snake, I’m not sure whether we can trust his words.”

Then he turns to you with earnest eyes. “You know that Hongjoong-hyung would never give you and Yeosang up. You know that, don’t you?”

You do know that. You know that more than anyone else. But there’s always fear in you, no matter how small, that your captain may choose the freedom of his crew over you… and you wouldn’t blame him in the least for it.

How could you?

Before your thoughts can start spiraling down this depressing whirlpool, San rises to his feet, stretching his arms above his head and glances at you.

“I’ll be researching on the poison sample, so I need you to remain here and watch over Yunho for me. Can you do that for me, Chin Hae?”

You don’t want to be alone with your thoughts as they eat away at you from the inside, but even more than that, you need for Yunho to get his antidote, so you nod and San presses a last, quick kiss to your temple, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Yunho is strong… and incredibly lucky. Believe in him.”

With that, your master leaves the room, and you’re all alone with Yunho in the sickbay. With nothing much else for you to do, you merely stare at the battlemaster’s face, memories with him flashing through your mind.

Since the first day you stepped aboard this ship, Yunho has always been this figure of strength and power, radiating positivity and goodwill like the sun itself. You still remember the time you had climbed up to the crow’s nest with him for the first time, the way he had simply grinned at you and reassured you that he’d catch you if you ever fell.

You can’t forget his sad, melancholy laugh as he explained the meaning of the rings in his hair, how he’d exposed the scar at his neck, the way he’d spilled to you everything about his brother with that fond, affectionate look on his face.

He was nicer, kinder, gentler. Always the better one of the two of us.

Well, your jaw clenches as you think about Yunho’s words, trying and failing to match it with the man you’d seen with Commander Kang earlier that day. You clearly remembered wrong, Yunho, because your brother is nothing like that.

Everything about Jeong Gunho scared you senseless, and still does, even more so when you think back on it. His short brown hair was flyaway and messy like any other youth, deep brown eyes expressive and alight with happiness. He and Yunho truly looked eerily alike, in fact now that you think about it, Gunho looks like what you might have imagined Yunho to resemble three years ago.

But it had been his smile that had scared you the most. You as an onlooker had been completely convinced of Gunho’s joy to finally meet his estranged brother once more, much less Yunho, who’d been missing his brother for years. It was no surprise Yunho had fallen for his younger brother’s act.

What truly scares you had been that even after running his brother through with a knife, Gunho’s face hadn’t changed the least. You remember the words he had spoken to Yunho with that same bright smile, one that you now know must have been hiding a dark, sinister intent underneath.

I didn’t think you’d be on guard enough to react so quickly around me. And here I thought you were glad to see me again, brother.

A frisson of fear runs through you as you recall the way he had said those words, as if disappointed a plan of his hadn’t worked out. His facade up to that point, right from the beginning when his hood had fallen off to the moment he’d stabbed Yunho in the stomach, had been wholly, undeniably flawless.

Gunho had known that Yunho missed him with every fiber of his being even before he had stepped onto the ship.

And he had intended to use that against him from the very beginning.

You’re utterly confused with so many unanswered questions buzzing around in your mind, some more baffling than the others. They spill into your mind like water overflowing from a basin, swirling around in your thoughts as you desperately try to come up with explanations and answers to them.

Wasn’t Gunho supposed to be dead? How did he magically some back to life… and why was he with the Royal Navy? Why was he with Commander Kang? From the way the two had looked at each other, moving in sync, they must have known each other for a long time. Which led you to the question… exactly what had happened after Yunho had left his brother behind in that arena?

A sigh escapes your mouth and you’re tempted to ram your head into the wall, but the noise would wake Yunho up. Playing with the necklace resting around your neck, you shut your eyes, matching your breathing to Yunho’s as you think hard about the events earlier in the day.

Why does Commander Kang want you? And why is there such a massive bounty on your head? Why on earth would you be worth more to the Royal Navy than the Pirate King himself? And why-

Creak…

You nearly jump in shock and scramble around to search for the source of the noise, only to see that it’s Yeosang stepping in through the door, carrying a small loaf of bread and meat. When he sees you sitting on the bed staring at him in surprise, he gives you a weak smile and crosses the room to pass you the food.

“Dinner. Seonghwa-hyung said to tell you shouldn’t skip any meals and to keep your strength up.”

“Thanks.” You take the food from him, just now realising how ravenous you are. The navigator seats himself next to you, the wooden frame creaking under his weight as he takes in the sight of one of his oldest friends, quiet and still on the bed opposite him. His face falls a little and you pause in between bites to attempt to cheer him up.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, Yeosang. I’m… I’m sure Captain wouldn’t give us up to your father. He’ll find a way to save us all, including Yunho. I believe in him.” You try to reassure him, but Yeosang merely gives you a defeated smile. He can feel your true feelings, even without words passing between you. How terrified you are that you’ll be given up. How part of you wants to be given up… if it means Yunho can be saved.

“My father did this, huh?” Yeosang’s hands clasp together in his lap and he leans back to stare at the ceiling of the infirmary. “I never… I never thought I would see him again, for most part.”

You glance at him, feeling his sorrow running through your veins as if it’s your own, your fingers reaching for his. Your intertwined hands rest in between the two of you as you close your eyes, taking comfort from the fact that Yeosang is here, and he understands what you’re feeling. “How did you come to the Treasure… Yeosang-oppa?”

You hear the navigator’s breath hitch, before his grip on your hand relaxes. “My father abandoned me in exchange for his crew’s safety when we had a run in with the Treasure… I was valuable, so Hongjoong took me alive.”

Your heart sinks. What he’s telling you now are the exact same memories you had seen in his mind, but the broken way he says it makes it so much more painful to your ears.

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t met Captain and the others…” Yeosang murmurs softly, squeezing your hand a little. “Whether I would have continued to follow my father blindly like a dog desperate for affection… believing that he truly did love me and that I just needed to prove myself to him. Or whether I would have realised it one day, completely alone, before all that love turned to hatred.”

“But you didn’t.” You remind him, looking him in the eye. Yeosang’s face brightens just a little at the thought of it.

“I didn’t.” He repeats after you, the smallest of smiles on his face as he reminisces upon those memories. “I stayed in the sickbay at first, you know? For a while, I completely refused food when San and Seonghwa-hyung brought it to me. I thought I should just die, because I had nothing more to live for.”

You stiffen a little at the thought of Yeosang, silent and unmoving, letting his body just die slowly as he tried to come to terms with the one, singular thing he’d believed his whole life; that his father had loved him. Nothing but fury wells up at the image that comes to mind.

“But someone changed my mind.”

“Oh?” You’re a little surprised and you see Yeosang with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls those days, a time long before you had joined the Treasure. “Seonghwa-oppa changed your mind? Or maybe Master?”

But Yeosang shakes his head to both, before dropping one name you had not expected to hear at all.

“It was Wooyoung.”

You actually pause in shock to stare at him. You really don’t have anything against him, Wooyoung is one of your best friends, and honestly, someone you wouldn’t hesitate to trust your life with. The head gunner has a silver tongue, a skilled charmer with both incredible charisma and empathy, but you wouldn’t have expected it to be Wooyoung of all people to be the one to pull Yeosang out of the darkness.

“Oh?”

Yeosang nods solemnly. “Wooyoung simply talked to me about never having experienced any sort of familial love, so it didn’t really matter to him when he’d left his first ship and come aboard the Treasure. But he felt as if I had it a lot harder… because I had lost something when he had nothing to lose.”

A shiver runs down your spine at those words. Nothing to lose? You recall his behaviour from the mermaid incident, how you’ve been hearing people making allusions to Wooyoung’s past but never really speaking about it, as if it’s some sort of taboo subject. You know he’s been through a lot from the little he’d told you back on Nassau… but how much had he suffered, exactly?

Part of you doesn’t want to know.

“Wooyoung told me he’d found a family he’d never known could exist on the Treasure and said he hoped I would give them a chance and let them do the same for me. You know it too, don’t you?” Yeosang recalls, shaking his head with a fond smile. “That’s how I know that Captain would never betray us.”

He squeezes your hands tightly in his, and something deep in you realises that maybe you were the one who needed comfort this entire time.

So, closing your eyes, you let yourself believe in the one thing that has been true this entire time.

Your captain will never betray you.


	48. Nature

It’s well past midnight when a strange noise startles you awake.

The sound starts off soft, barely rousing you from your slumber as your sleep addled mind tries to convince you that it’s nothing, cajoling you back to into your dreams. Embarrassingly, you almost let it pull you under for a short moment before the sound gets louder and louder, unrelenting and interspersed with high pitched cries. A sleepy frown pulls at your face as you try to figure out just what the commotion is without opening your heavy eyes, before horror strikes you and your eyes fly open of their own volition.

It’s the sound of Yunho moaning in pain.

Fear jolts through you and you jerk upright in the bed, rubbing at your eyes even as you scramble to Yunho’s side, nearly tripping over when your legs get caught up in the sheets. Catching your balance, you rush to the bed opposite yours, glancing over at Yunho’s face.

He doesn’t seem to have awoken yet, to your confusion, but he’s flailing around in the blankets as if he’s trying to reach for something, whimpering with his eyes squeezed shut. There’s unintelligible noise falling from his lips and you lean down to hear him more clearly, but your heart sinks in your chest when the word repeats itself in your ears over and over again.

“Gunho… I’m sorry, Gunho…”

You stare upon the pale, ashen face of Jeong Yunho as he calls out softly for his younger brother repeatedly, the very same person who had stabbed him in the gut without a second glance. Even after being betrayed, even after being backstabbed, even in his feverish, weakened state…

He still won’t stop reaching out for his brother’s hand.

Anguish, so raw that it almost feels real, claws at your insides and you find yourself reaching out for Yunho’s outstretched hand, wanting to provide comfort to him in anyway you possibly can. Yunho’s fingers close around your hand in a vice like grip, clutching at you desperately like he’s a drowning man and you’re some sort of lifeline in the middle of an endless ocean. It hurts, but you can’t bring yourself to pull your hand away.

Then you freeze.

Because Yunho’s eyes are open.

You almost fall off the bed in a shock, even though your master had warned you beforehand that his anaesthesias tended to have a weaker effect on the older battlemaster, you had never expected it to wear off so quickly. Recovering from your surprise as fast as you can, you wave a hesitant hand in Yunho’s face.

“Yunho? Yunho, can you see me?”

But Yunho doesn’t respond, merely blinking up at you as his eyes wander back and forth, flitting about like a dancing butterfly before they finally settle on the spot right at your left shoulder and a wide, joyous smile blooms on his pale face. You frown as nerves start to creep up in you, uneasiness settling deep in your gut. What’s happening?

“Gunho… you came back to me.”

Every muscle in your body turns to ice at those words, your hand tightening on Yunho’s unconsciously. He thinks you’re his brother.

You search his eyes carefully like your master has taught you, finally recognising the signs that you see there. The hazy, unfocused gaze, dilated pupils, shallow breathing and incoherent mumbling, seeing something that isn’t quite there. They all point towards the same thing.

Yunho is hallucinating.

There’s nothing you can do for him. If you had to guess, the poison in Yunho’s bloodstream was probably some sort of hallucinogen that’s finally starting to show its effects, and without a proper antidote, there’s no way that you can help him in any way. What you can do is to merely keep Yunho calm and his heart rate under control, preventing further spread of poison through his body.

So, even though every part of you is screaming at you not to do it, you squeeze Yunho’s hand back.

“Yeah, I did, hyung.” The words leaving your mouth feel so filthy, you’re assuming the identity of that terrible, twisted man who had laughed as his brother crumpled to his knees in front of him. You’re lying to Yunho, you know, but what else can you do? “I did come back.”

“Ahh… I so happy to see you alive… that you escaped that hellhole.” Yunho raises a weak hand to stroke your face, the action so painfully gentle that it brings tears to your eyes. “I missed you so much, Gunho. I thought that you… that you were dead.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you desperately wipe the wetness rolling down your cheeks as you search for something else to say. Yunho, in his poisoned haze, must obviously not remember what had led him to be in this state in the first place. “But I’m not. I’m here with you now, hyung.”

“Are you here to kill me?” Yunho murmurs with that same, heart wrenching smile and for a moment you’re so stunned that you can find no words, merely staring at him like you’ve been struck on the head with a hammer. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were here to finish the job… I just hope you do it quickly.”

Your mind is completely scrambled as you try to make sense of Yunho’s words. Yunho thinks that Gunho is here, in the infirmary with him, waiting to kill him, but he’s merely accepting death with open arms just like this?

There’s something growing inside your chest, a numb fire that you don’t know whether is fury or horror. You want to scream at your crew mate, slap him, throw him overboard and demand right this second that he fight with every bit of his effort for his damn precious life. But the words are lodged deep in your throat and all you manage is a soft ‘oh’, a simple wisp of air that escapes your mouth as a deliberately vague question.

“I don’t deserve to live after I broke that promise to you, Gunho… I promised that I’d save you from that place… and I failed to do it… I failed you.” Yunho’s voice cracks a little as the hand holding yours squeezes a little tighter, the raw, vulnerable emotion in his voice yanking at your heartstrings. You try and fail to hold back more tears, but Yunho doesn’t notice, staring intently with such a warm, pained gaze at the empty space above your shoulder that you can’t help but want to tell him that his brother isn’t really here, that it’s just you and that he deserves the whole world, much less his life. “I was too late… When I returned to the arena… they told me you were dead, you know? Dead and gone from the fever.”

Agony rips you apart from the inside. You don’t want to listen to another word of this story, how Yunho had believed this painful lie his whole life only to get stabbed in the back by it. But you can only sit there, with tears silently streaming down your face as you grip his hand tight.

You’re utterly helpless in this situation.

“I wanted to die so badly… but Captain… Captain told me that my life belonged to him.” Yunho’s smile is so agonizingly joyous now, his eyes clouded over with hazy, hallucinated memories of long ago. “He said that as his crew, I was his to take care of, and that I needed to live for him.”

You can’t tear your eyes away.

“He saved me. I found another family on board the Treasure, even after you left, Gunho. I wish it could have been you in my place.” Yunho whispers softly and you watch as a single tear falls down his cheek, heart throbbing with pain in your chest. “So please… if you want revenge, just take it out on me. Don’t hurt them, please…”

A sob wrenches it way from your throat as you try to stifle your weeping.

“But I can’t do it… I just can’t say it…”

Wiping your eyes the best you can, you sniff and try to get your emotions under control. “Say what, hyung?”

“The main mast is still better than the mizzenmast… I can’t lie to you, Wooyoung…”

Something between a shaky laugh and an anguished sob leaves your mouth, tears now flowing freely from your eyes. Yunho’s grip on your hand slackens and he returns to mumbling indecipherable nonsense, eyes still shut blissfully in sleep as you cry silently next to him.

Luckily for you, the door that leads to your shared bedroom with San creaks open before you can dwell any more on this. Instead, you focus on wiping your eyes as you turn to face your master, who tries to give you a weak attempt at a wan smile. He can very clearly see how puffy and red your eyes are, it would have been obvious even from across the ocean, but he makes no comment on it.

“How are your tests?” You croak out weakly as your master takes a seat next to you, a soft sigh of disappointment escaping him.

“This poison is a lot more complex than I thought.” San murmurs to you as he reaches over to take your hand in his, the gentle weight of it comforting you more than you can ever thank him for. “I’ve discovered quite a few components in it… it seems to be an addictive and a poison all in one.”

You flinch a little and curl into your master’s side, pressing your face into his arm as if it could shield you from the painful memories of earlier. “Yunho-oppa was hallucinating just now. He thought I was Gunho.”

San stiffens slightly under you, tensing and relaxing before he begins to speak again. “I made a discovery earlier. Something that scares me.”

At his words, fear runs through your veins and you glance at your master in horror. Did your master just find out that the poison is a fast acting one and that you might not have the time to save Yunho? But the words that leave his mouth are far more terrifying than that.

“I detected sorcery in the poison. Something dangerous… something powerful. A sort of… magical trace.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Yunho has already been stabbed in the side, poisoned by his own brother, and now there is a person with sinister intentions who was using sorcery to hurt him? At this point, you wish so desperately that there could be something you could do to save Yunho, but unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do in the least.

It eats away at you from the inside.

Obviously knowing the internal struggle going on in you, San rests a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulls you to your feet. You stumble a little, not expecting your master to do that, but he simply steers you towards your bedroom in response to your questioning gaze.

“Go to sleep, Chin Hae.” He instructs you and when you turn around to protest, fully intent on telling him that you can’t just leave him alone here with Yunho when he should be researching the poison, but your master gives you a simple, reassuring smile. All your protests die on your lips.

“I know you’re worried about Yunho, Chin Hae. But you aren’t any help to me like that, half dead on your feet. Go get some rest so that you can watch over Yunho tomorrow, alright?”

At the mention of rest, you suddenly realise just how weary and drained you are from the events of today. Too much has happened, too much for you to process, and honestly you feel a little dizzy, as if your brain physically can’t handle all this new information. But Yunho. You glance back at his still form, something in you terrified that when you wake up the next day, Yunho might be…

“But-”

Your master presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Leave things out here to me. Go to bed and just sleep right away, alright?”

When he says the word ‘sleep’ again, exhaustion washes over your whole body and you find yourself too debilitated to continue arguing anymore. So with one last look at Yunho, you turn around and step into your bedroom, staggering over to your bed and plopping down on it heavily. Your vision seems to be swimming a little, causing you to feel a strange, nauseating sense of vertigo, but you chalk it up to the events of today and your desperate need for sleep.

You just need to rest.

So, without bothering to think any more about it, you simply close your eyes and fall back onto the comforting, familiar softness of the mattress.

You’re out of it the second your head touches the pillow.

The very instant you fall asleep, dark shadows swirl in your mind, warping and taking on strange, hazy shapes that you can’t tell head or tail from. Blackness surrounds you once more and this time, that crimson eye looms into your dreams again.

“Run…”

Your mouth opens to ask it a question, but no words come out except for a little cloud of bubbles, rising up in the water to the surface. Your hair drifts about you eerily as you try to form the words to the question that you need to know.

Colours and shapes blend together in front of you, voices and sounds bombarding you from every direction as your dreamscape shifts and churns, before it finally settles on a single sight.

The sea waves crash against the shore as you walk along the beach, smiling at the expanse of blue before you. There’s something so relaxing about the ocean, how powerful and wild nature is in comparison with a mere mortal like you. The sound of the ocean fills your ears and you close your eyes, glad to finally get some peace when you see something on the otherwise empty beach.

It’s a small, baby turtle, probably just hatched, struggling to get to the sea as it crawls along the beach. You can’t help but smile as you watch it continue on its path to the ocean from a short way off, cheering the creature on inside your heart.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a large bird swoops down from the sky and in the next second, the baby turtle is in it’s claws. It wriggles about, trying to escape, but its efforts are futile… the bird swoops off into the air, cawing loudly, the baby turtle no doubt its next meal.

Horror rises in you and you almost cry out in anger, but a cool hand on your shoulder stops you. Panic rises in you and you whirl around, only to be met with a sight you thought you’d never see again in your lifetime.

 

It’s the green eyed man once more, but this time instead of the usual, gentle smile he’s gives you in your dreams, his mouth is pressed into a thin, grim line. He doesn’t look at you, iridescent green eyes focused on the bird that’s soaring away from the beach.

“Blame not the predator, for this is merely the way of the natural world.” His piercing green eyes then bore into yours, seemingly burning holes right into your very soul. “The strong consume the weak to gain strength… this too might come to be your fate.”

Terror wells up in you at his ominous words. 

“What?”

“Hurry.” His face blurs and fades into the darkness once more, but his voice lingers on. “It’s failing soon. You don’t have much time left. Hurry and *** for your own sake, Choi Chin Hae.”

What?

You’re plunged into icy cold water once more, flailing about in the water. Above you, there’s a muffled sound of a cannon shot, reverberating in your ears like a roll of thunder.

“Run!”

“Run from what?”

But before you can say anything, you choke on the water surrounding you.

For a second, you’re terrified. This has never happened in all your dreams before, even in those nightmares in which you had always been submerged in water, not needing air in the least, not needing to breathe. It was a dream after, not in the least connected to real life. But this?

You cough and cough and cough, the darkness around you distorting around you as you catch glimpses of a table in the corner, a jar of preserved herbs, a teapot. Then you’re thrown back into real life, eyes wide as you try to hack up the liquid lingering in your throat, the sensation all too real to be just a dream.

Something warm and wet splatters onto your palm.

“Shit.” You curse silently to yourself, stepping out of bed as you move to get a rag to clean the water off your hand with. How the hell had this happened? Not once had your dreams ever caused you to actually be physically affected in real life. You guess that you had somehow choked on your own saliva when you were asleep, embarrassing as that sounded, causing you to feel like you were choking and wake up from your dream.

Sighing, you move to the desk, opening one of the potholes at the side to let the moonlight stream in as you search for a clean rag. Spotting one at the tabletop, you reach for it, wiping your hand and mouth clean with an exasperated shake of the head.

“I should clean it tomorrow.” You muse to yourself, as you stretch and prepare to return to bed, setting the rag down on the table.

But the second you do, all thoughts of sleep flee your mind at once, overcome with sheer, numb shock. You simply stare at that innocent piece of white cloth, the moon’s rays shining upon the fabric as if mocking you, laughing at you, jeering at you.

A choked gasp catches in your throat and you fail to catch yourself, sliding down to the ground on weak legs as a single image sears itself into your mind like a branding iron.

The sight of that white handkerchief stained with blood.


	49. Realisation

You’re sitting in the rigging, the wind whipping at your hair as you watch the island of Grand Iguana come into view. As per your captain’s orders the day before, the Treasure is sailing to the closest possible town to get herbs for San to make an antidote with, an island just off the coast of Hispaniola.

Your eyes see, but aren’t really focused on the sight before you.

You raise your fingers to your lips absentmindedly. They’re smooth and warm, a little chapped, but not cracked or bleeding. But even though there’s no reason for it, you can still taste the phantom metallic tang of blood in your mouth, warm and coppery, lingering in the back of your mind like a nightmare unforgotten.

You don’t know what to think.

What is happening to you?

Those nosebleeds since you’d healed Yeosang… they had all been warning signs of something bigger to come. You wish desperately that you hadn’t ignored them back then, but it seems as if it is too late to regret things now. There so many questions swirling in your mind, erasing every other thought from you as you frantically ponder each and every one all at once, but eventually they stumble to a dead end and you never find an answer to any of them.

But one stands out above all the others.

What does this mean for you?

You’re afraid. Very, very afraid of what might come to pass. Terrified beyond the point of your imagination. Petrified in fear-

“Chin Hae?”

You whip around in shock at the sudden voice, nearly falling from the ropes in your haste and panic shoots through you for a second. To your fortune, a warm hand catches yours firmly, pulling you back up onto the yardarm, the sound of chains jangling in your ears.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-oppa.” You gasp as your back collides with the wood of the mainmast, your eyes meeting a familiar green gaze. But on his face, where there is usually a wide, boxy grin that brings out and complements his vibrant, emerald eyes, his mouth is instead pulled in a tight line, his gaze dull and weary.

Wooyoung still attempts a smile for you as he takes a seat next to you, however it comes out more as a forced grimace that doesn’t comfort you in the least. He must be worried for Yunho, it’s as obvious as the sun in the sky from the skittish way he swings his legs to the furrow in his brow. It’s been less than a week since Yunho has been poisoned, but the impact on the Treasure and its crew is apparent, the main deck that is usually clamouring with noise and activity unnaturally subdued without their resident mood maker there to spice things up for them.

You’ve never really considered why the battlemaster’s nickname onboard the ship is ‘Yunhogizer’… but now that you think about it, it’s clear to you. He might not have a prominent role on the ship except in times of battle, but Yunho truly is like a big brother to everyone on the Treasure… an irreplaceable part of the ship itself.

A lump rises in your throat. You miss him.

Back when you had first learned the ropes, Wooyoung had sat on your right, Yunho on the left, with you sandwiched in between them to prevent you from falling. But now the yardarm feels too big, too spacious, an empty spot at your side where the lookout should be sitting.

Yunho is already conscious but San has confined him to bedrest, telling him that moving around will simply make the poison spread faster. To your surprise, Yunho had been surprisingly compliant, not arguing in the least and simply letting you and San tend to him quietly. You’re worried, but you don’t know what yo say to him.

“Have you been to Grand Iguana before, oppa?” You ask, watching the blue of the sea gradually change from a deep azure to cerulean, shoals of bright, colorful fish darting about the ship’s hull in curiosity. Wooyoung’s hand slips into yours instinctively, like it’s the place it belongs.

“Yeah.” He smiles weakly at you, fingers closing tight around yours. They’re trembling, just a little. Just as terrified as you are for Yunho’s life, even as he tries to keep his voice light. “Not a lot of pretty ladies here.”

You elbow him in the side but it lacks any real strength behind it, silently squeezing his hand back, both trying to reassure him and comfort yourself at the same time. “It’s not nice to say that in front of me.” You say with what you intended to be a humorous laugh, but it comes out more of a nervous, flighty chuckle.

To your surprise, Wooyoung’s face becomes deathly serious, turning to face you, grasping both of your hands tightly in his larger ones. The shackles on his wrists clink and your eyes are immediately drawn to his, earnest and sober, as they bore into yours quietly. For a moment, you see him searching your expression for something that you’re not quite sure of, but before you can ask him what he’s doing, he merely sighs to himself and bows over your joined hands.

Confused, you don’t move, simply staring at Wooyoung as he leans forward. You feel warm breath touching your hands, stuttering out over your skin slowly, hesitantly, like he’s afraid you might push him away, before his lips brush your fingers with a gentle touch.

You freeze, eyes widening as you take in the head of purple hair before you. Wooyoung straightens up, meeting your eyes straight on with some solemn, unreadable gaze that sends inexplicable shivers up your spine, an entire ocean of emotions hidden behind a dam that is on the verge of shattering under their weight. Inhaling deeply, he takes a moment to steady sort out his thoughts before he begins to speak.

“I…”

But it never finishes.

There’s a long moment as Wooyoung suddenly falters, the words trailing off his tongue as he stares at you, green eyes widening. Then something creeps into the iridescent emerald hue, something you would go as far as to describe as fear, his hand going slack in yours.

You frown, waiting for him to continue speaking. 

Instead, the head gunner simply stills, chewing on his lower lip hesitantly, before he suddenly sets your hands back in your lap, abruptly turning to watch the island before you once more. You’re so utterly confused by his behaviour, your mouth opening to ask him exactly what he was about to tell you, but then you hear Mingi calling for both of you to assemble at the main deck before the question can even leave your lips.

Wooyoung rises to his feet, pulling you with him even as the quartermaster waves the two of you down from the main deck. Your curiosity hasn’t been satiated in the least, so you tug on Wooyoung’s arm before he can descend the mast, stopping him in his tracks with a befuddled expression on your face.

“Wooyoung-oppa, what is it?”

“I…” For a second, Wooyoung actually stumbles over his words, his silver tongue failing him for the first time you’ve seen it as he stares at you haplessly, a conflicted gaze in his eyes, his fingers tightening around yours unconsciously. They’re a little clammy, and to your shock, you see an expression you’ve only seen one other time on his face, when you had been shot in Nassau.

Actual, honest to god panic.

He suddenly seems to realise that his hand is still in yours, because he drops it as fast as he can, as if it’s aflame. You try not to look as shocked as you feel, because not once in your life has Wooyoung rejected your touch, but you’re sure hurt and confusion flashes across your face before you can stop them.

Wooyoung, as perceptive as always, notices immediately and makes to explain himself, before he thinks the better of it and falls silent once more, jaw working furiously under your gaze. You’re so utterly bewildered by what has just happened, did Wooyoung just… kiss your fingers before pulling away? There seemed to be so much weight, so much meaning to what he’d just done, but you just don’t understand what it is.

What had just happened?

Wooyoung smiles at you but it’s clearly forced, dry and brittle, his gaze not meeting yours even when you try to catch his eye. Confusion and fear about what has just happened to one of your best friends outweighs your self consciousness, and you reach out to take his hand, forcing him to stay by your side.

“Oppa, what is it?”

But Wooyoung flinches away as if burned, blinking furiously as you stare at him, your hand still hanging in the empty space between the two of you. The head gunner realises what he’s just done, his expression turning apologetic, but then he falters once more, his own hand falling to the side as he stares back at you helplessly.

“Chin Hae, Wooyoung, hurry up!”

“Wooyoung,” you breathe cautiously, as if being too loud will scare him away. “Why exactly are you-”

“We should get going.” He dodges your question, turning towards the mast so that you can’t see his expression any longer. Something in you feels lost, hurt, betrayed even. What exactly is Wooyoung hiding from you, and why?

But before you can force him to give you an honest answer, Wooyoung has already leapt down the ropes to the main deck, leaving you behind on the main mast. A sort of confounded anger rises in you, but you force it back down, remembering your past experiences with Yeosang. No. Maybe Wooyoung is just having a bad time. He’s just worried about Yunho. Nothing more, nothing less.

You take a few deep breath to calm yourself. This isn’t the time to be thinking of such things. You need to focus on saving Yunho.

After you take a moment yourself to get your emotions under control, you join the rest of the crew on the main deck, stepping up to your master’s side. The deck has started rocking a little more underneath your feet, indicating that the crew have already lowered anchor and the ship has stopped sailing towards the island, merely bobbing on the waves.

You glance over the side, gasping in surprise at seeing the seabed just beneath the waves, all sorts of colourful corals and fish under the surface. Far off in the distance, there is a tiny cove in the side of the island, just out of sight, but your eyes are immediately drawn to it.   
A fond memory surfaces in your mind, you remember how you had encountered the Kraken on board the Treasure at the very beginning of your journey, hearing its voice in your mind and saving the crew. In a way, if that sea monster hadn’t chased the ship, Hongjoong may not have started trusting in you, and you wouldn’t be where you were today.

There’s a familiar click of boots and you turn around to see your captain stepping out of his cabin, red jacket around his shoulders. He’s still holding himself straight, emerald green gaze hard and determined, but there’s a weary slant to his shoulders, barely noticeable dark circles under his eyes that reveal just how exhausted he’s been for the last few days.

You’re worried for him.

Everyone on board had suffered from Yunho’s attack, no doubt worried beyond comparison for their cheerful crew mate, but for your captain, it seems to be something running deeper beyond what you can see, a storm of emotion swirling behind his one eye.

There are six people gathered on the deck including you and your captain, San, Mingi, Jongho and Wooyoung. You don’t know why exactly your captain has called all of you here, but it’s probably something to do with getting herbs for an antidote from Grand Iguana… you’re just not sure why there are so few of you gathered.

“San, I want you and Chin Hae to go into town and get the herbs you need. And make it fast, I have a bad feeling about something in the waters.” Your captain goes straight into instructions, shaving off the usual banter he begins with when giving orders. Your heart sinks at his words. What does he mean by he has a bad feeling?

“A bad feeling?” The young battlemaster echoes your thoughts, frowning at his captain as his fingers dance unconsciously over the handle of his cutlass. Hongjoong doesn’t bother trying to reassure any of you in the least, and with that you understand the severity of the situation.

“Seonghwa will remain on board and tend to Yunho because he doesn’t know the herbs you’ll need as well as you and Chin Hae will.” There’s no room for argument in your captain’s voice and all you can do is nod obediently. “I’ll be sending you with Jongho and Wooyoung to protect you while you’re there, I can’t have anything happening to either of you, especially not now. Jongho and Wooyoung, the two of you protect them with your lives, you understand?”

“Yes, captain.”

Nodding, your captain turns to glance at the two of you once more. “San, you go with Jongho. Wooyoung, you-”

“I’ll go with San.”

Wooyoung’s words cut across his captain’s faster than a loaded cannon.

Your eyes dart up to Wooyoung in shock and hurt. You know that something strange had happened up there on the yardarm, what exactly it was, you didn’t know, but Wooyoung isn’t meeting your eyes, instead glancing to the side. You see San’s brows furrow slightly in confusion, but your captain is too focused on the task at hand to sort this problem out now.

“Jongho with Chin Hae then. San and Wooyoung. We’ll cover more ground that way.” Your captain beckons the four of you to the little rowboat, Mingi passing over a bag of coins. “I wish you all the best.”

Even as the rowboat pulls away from the Treasure, Jongho and Wooyoung pulling at the oars, you feel a sinking feeling in your chest.

And you’re not sure why anymore.


	50. A Long, Forgotten Friend

You and Jongho move along the marketplace, scouring the stalls all around you. In your hand is a list of herbs San has asked you to buy for him while he searches the forests nearby for plants that your master needs fresh. Wooyoung had gone with him.

At the thought, you sigh. It has been weighing on your mind the whole time, what happened to Wooyoung. What exactly had changed up there in the mast between the two of you? You hadn’t said anything to anger him in the slightest, or anything related to his past, so why?

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?” Jongho tugs at your sleeve and you’re jerked out of your thoughts, staring at the younger battlemaster with wide eyes for a second. Then you register his words and sigh, shoulders slumping forward as all the energy in you seems to leave your body at once.

You really didn’t intend on telling anyone anything, trying to convince yourself that this problem would all blow over in due time, but the words just spill out of you before you can stop them.

“Wooyoung… he’s started acting weird around me.” You confess, chewing on your lower lip nervously as your eyes flit across the bunches of herbs hanging from a stall roof. Jongho doesn’t say anything, instead gesturing for you to continue. “He was going to tell me something just now but he just… he just stopped and suddenly he’s ignoring me, I wish I knew what happened and honestly I don’t know what I did wrong, Jongho-oppa, and-”

Suddenly, Jongho whirls around and grabs you by the shoulders, forcing you to jerk to a stop against his firm hold. “Hey, Chin Hae, breathe.” He says slowly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your shoulders and it’s only then that you realise that your breath is coming out is short, fast pants, your words tripping over themselves in their attempt to tumble from your mouth. You snap your mouth shut, gritting your teeth, but you’re worried, worried about so many things all at once that it seems to be a constant weight on your mind.

You’re worried about whether Yunho will survive.

You’re afraid what Wooyoung’s strange behaviour could mean.

You’re terrified… about just how much time you have left.

You may be a positive person, but you’re not that big of a fool to delude yourself into thinking that your constant nosebleeds and coughing are small issues that can just be swept under the rug and brushed aside. This is a sign of something unseen happening inside you, something that you can’t simply ignore.

If your master knew you were hiding something like this from him, he’d kill you.

Then an uncontrollable, little giggle forces its way out of your throat, terror swirling deep within your body like a whirlwind. You might not even be alive by then.

“Hey.” Jongho’s hand comes up to your face and slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to sting but with enough force for you to actually feel it. The usually silent maknae looks worried, his dark eyes glancing across your face silently before he squeezes your shoulders tight. It’s not the hugs that you’re used to from San and Wooyoung, not the gentle pats that Seonghwa gives you, but it’s every bit as comforting and for a moment, you let your head hang, all your fears and thoughts running through your mind as you stare at the dusty ground beneath your feet.

Dirt. What you had come from. What you would eventually return to.

“I don’t know what is going on with you, but don’t let it eat away at you, alright?” Jongho claps you firmly on the shoulder, his gaze searching yours. You don’t know whether you want to sob, scream or cry, perhaps do all at once, but you know that you need to keep your head on.

You have to save Yunho before you start worrying about yourself. It’s like Captain said earlier. The Treasure can’t afford to lose a healer now, especially not when Yunho might be dying from poison.

You might be dying too, a voice in your head whispers, chills running down your spine. But this time, you force the words aside, unwilling to let it affect you any further. You’ll tell San about it once you return to the ship. Maybe… just maybe… there’s a cure for what’s happening to you.

“Yeah.” You choke out in agreement to Jongho’s words and although he doesn’t look wholly convinced that you’re completely fine, he lets his hands fall from your shoulders. His fingers come up to encircle your wrist, not quite touching you but they’re still there, offering you comfort, as awkward as they are, something that you appreciate beyond appreciation.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Jongho pulls you along gently and you follow obediently, willing your mind to focus on its sole task, to find the herbs San has instructed you to. The rest of your problems can wait.

As if some heavy fog has lifted from your mind, your search becomes more productive almost instantly as you point out herbs that you spot and Jongho pays for them. Hongjoong’s words linger at the back of your mind, a warning to not remain on the island for too long.

I have a bad feeling about something in the waters.

You don’t know how accurate your captain’s sea related sixth sense is, but he’s never given you a reason to doubt him so you’re not about to start doing it now. In fact, you yourself have an uncomfortable sensation wallowing about in you, probably the result of your captain’s ominous words.

Maybe it’s the fear in you that’s pushing you beyond your usual capabilities, but you’re absurdly proud of how fast you cross all the required herbs off your list. When you’re done, Jongho and you are toting several bags in hand, striding back to the stretch of beach you had disembarked on as quickly as possible to wait for San and Wooyoung.

They aren’t back yet, but you’re not very surprised. San does have a lot of herbs to find, and searching for them in the mountains is going to be a terribly difficult task. You don’t envy him the job, but it’s not like you could do it anyway.

So the two of you simply load the bags into the rowing boat and wait inside, watching the water lap against the side of the boat. In the distance, you can see the Treasure floating a bit offshore, about the size of your palm from the beach you’re at, the waves strangely serene.

There’s a moment or two of silence before Jongho finally breaks it.

“Hey… you said you were worried about Wooyoung-hyung earlier, weren’t you?” He asks, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as he glances at everything but you. At his words, you start in shock and nod frantically, desperate for some clue that will help you figure out Wooyoung’s near incomprehensible mind. The head gunner’s always been sort of a mystery to you, but you never really thought about why.

Jongho’s eyes search the beach warily, as if he’s worried that Wooyoung might appear out of nowhere before gesturing for you to lean forwards to hear him better. A little baffled why he would need to whisper when the beach is practically empty except for the two of you, you bend down anyway, Jongho’s face practically inches from yours as he whispers to you in a solemn, secretive tone.

“I think Wooyoung-hyung is scared of you.”

At those words, you jerk away instinctively to look at Jongho in the face, unsure whether he’s joking with you or not. But the younger battlemaster’s face remains as serious as ever, holding your gaze even as you let out an uneasy, high pitched laugh in response.

“Wooyoung-oppa? Scared of me?” You try to wave off his words, but there’s an uneasy feeling in your chest as soon as you try to deny it. “Why would Wooyoung-oppa be scared of me? He’s a better fighter, a stronger person, a-”

“I didn’t say physically, Chin Hae.” Jongho interrupts you abruptly with the most serious expression you’ve seen on him and your words die in your mouth, because your heart actually already seems to understand, even when your mind is stillin denial. The way he had suddenly dropped your hand, refused to look you in the eye, run from you without giving you an explanation? It all seems to make sense now.

He’s afraid of you.

“It’s not your fault, Chin Hae.” Jongho rushes to reassure you before you can descend into a guilty spiral once more. “I promise you, it’s not what you think.”

“What is it, then?” You choke out. Wooyoung means so much to you, but now that you ponder hard about this, how much do you actually know Wooyoung? Your heart sinks in your chest at the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you don’t really understand him at all.

And it hurts you more than an arrow to the chest.

“I joined ATEEZ after Wooyoung-hyung did, but I think I’ve seen him in some of his ahh… worse fits before.” Jongho murmurs softly, almost more to himself than to you, but you hang onto every word that leaves his mouth. “Wooyoung-hyung… I’m trying to say this nicely, but he… whored around, played with women like they were nothing more than toys. Left a trail of broken hearts everywhere he went. Kissed more mouths than the hairs on my head… and probably slept with as many of them too.”

You swallow the uncomfortable lump in your throat as you imagine bright, bubbly and cheerful Wooyoung in your mind. His hand reaches for yours, hands that have been places you never want to imagine, corners of his mouth pulling up in a warm smile as he chatters to you excitedly about what’s for dinner. Lips that have been places you don’t want to think about. You don’t want to think about any of it anymore. But Jongho continues to speak.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard this from him… but his childhood wasn’t exactly the greatest. As a kid, he was forced to… you know.” Jongho says grimly, trying to keep out some of the more delicate parts of Wooyoung’s story. You feel like you’re intruding on something private of Wooyoung’s, something that you should wait for him to tell you, but at this rate, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be spilling the beans to you anytime soon. “I can’t be sure what exactly goes on in his mind… but I think Wooyoung-hyung needs to feel like he has control over his relationships with women, that’s why he plays around with them so much. It’s like a game to him, a game he needs to be sure he’ll always win.”

You freeze, your blood turning to ice in your veins.

Control over his relationships with women.

Something dark in you rears its ugly head, towering over your form as it chuckles, almost menacingly, brushing your cheek with a cold, smooth hand. Relationships with women. A painful feeling rips your heart apart in your chest, so agonizing that you can feel it in you. Control. A sob threatens to escape your chest. A game to him.

Are you… just another toy to him?

Jongho doesn’t seem to see the internal conflict battling it out behind your eyes or the heartbroken expression on your face, instead ploughing on with his explanation. “I think Wooyoung-hyung is scared of you because… well… I think that he’s… he’s realised that he’s in-”

You never hear the end of that sentence.

Because right before Jongho can say anything more, a scream cuts it off.

Your head snaps up in shock.

It’s not just any scream. It’s a scream of pain, as if the one who’s making this terrible, god awful sound is being tortured, physically in agony. It’s a scream of desperation, like a small child who’s lost his mother and can’t find her, utterly alone and abandoned. It’s a scream of fear, real, unadulterated fear, so raw and primal it can be facing nothing short of death itself.

It’s not just any scream, because you don’t hear this scream with your ears.

It’s not just any scream, because it resounds in your mind like a frantically ringing bell, splitting your head apart from the sheer intensity of it.

It’s not just any scream, because you recognise its call.

Without a second thought, you leap from the boat, running towards the sound with all your might. Panic, fear and terror all swell up in you like a tidal wave and crash down upon you, wiping every sane thought from your mind as adrenaline pumps in your veins, your feet flying over the sand as if you’re weightless. The white noise in your ears drowns out Jongho’s shouts of shock as he chases after you, but you’re too fast for him to catch, tearing through a grove of trees like the lunatic you are and scrambling up the hill on numb, trembling legs.

You don’t know where you’re going in the slightest, but that’s the least of your worries. All that matters to you is reaching that voice right now, as fast as you can, because you need to be with him, to see him safe.

You can’t be too late.

You need to save him.

Not him.

You finally emerge at the top of the hill, overlooking the sea, your chest near bursting from the exertion. It’s a bluff, you realise, of the small cove you had seen earlier from the ship, and down below you is a sight that you would have never, in your life, expected to see.

In the sparkling blue waters of the cove beneath you, a ship is anchored, a massive, terrifying three masted frigate that would put the Treasure to shame, black sails flapping in the wind. There’s the insignia of a crimson rose woven on the inky dark background, which, you recognise with your heart sinking in your chest, is a Royal Navy ship.

But that’s not that much of a shock to you anymore. What does matter to you is what is on the beach of the cove.

“No…” A breathless gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening in horror as you stare at the sight.

It’s the Kraken.

You’ve never seen it before like this, only caught glimpses of it from far away the first time you’d awoken on the Treasure. A behemoth beast. It’s a monstrosity, colossal in size, a murky shade of blue, green and grey with slowly unravelling tentacles that can only move so far.

Because it’s trapped in a net.

It’s a massive one at that, one that can’t possibly have had any other use other than hunting this creature down. The monster roars in agony once more, the sound filling your ears like the cry of a storm right before a hurricane, pressing against the ropes in an attempt to break free and for a moment, you hope that it does, that ropes can’t possibly contain a beast like that, but the ropes glow bright blue and the Kraken’s tentacles fall to the ground, limp and unmoving.

Magic.

It pains you so much to see such a majestic, grand creature being held down by mere humans. You step forward, wanting to help some way, any way, but then a hand claps over your mouth from behind and pulls you backwards and away from the edge forcefully.

You nearly scream in panic, but then your captor hisses into your ear sternly. “It’s me, Jongho! What the hell are you doing, Chin Hae, Hongjoong-hyung said to get back to the ship as soon as possible…”

His own words trail off in horror when he sees the sight before him.

It’s high, too high up to see any of their faces clearly, but a man at the front steps forward, his voice carrying up even to the top of the cove.

“How have you been doing, hafgufa?”

The Kraken bellows and thrashes about, utterly restrained by the ropes and whatever magic boundaries are placed on the nets. Terror breaks out in you and you nearly move forward again, desperate to help it, but Jongho keeps a firm grip on your arm, shaking his head desperately.

There’s a whole ship of Royal Navy soldiers there and only two of you. What could you possibly do?

“It’s been terribly hard to track you down so far… but then again all of you are just as elusive as your mistress.” The man tuts, shaking his head as he removes something his belt. Mistress? The Kraken’s mistress? “I’m sure it’ll be difficult to find her… but with the eyes of my son and the bounty on her head? I’ll get her soon enough.”

The Kraken roars in fury, the sound terrifying enough to make most of the other soldiers guarding the beast cower in fear. The Kraken is fuming mad with rage, not something any sane man or beast would want to mess with. But the man at the head simply raises the object in his hand, a razor sharp blade that shines in the light of the afternoon sun.

Horror descends on you.

“But for now…”

You watch in terrified silence as the man steps forward, holding the knife high. No, he can’t possibly be doing what you think he’s going to do, it can’t be happening, it can’t be true, it can’t be true, it can’t be true-

The blade comes down.

The scream that you hear next is something you wish, desperately with all your heart, that you could forget.

The sound unleashes the most primal of emotions in you, the scream tearing through your muddled mind, shredding everything in its path. Your head almost rips itself apart in agony and you clutch at your head, sinking to your knees at the sheer torment you are going through. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it feels like this pain is never going to end.

The Kraken, the massive, beautiful creature that has been born from the sea foam since the dawn of time, since the oceans were spoken into existence, is dying.

A whimper bursts forth from your throat and you lunge forward, every instinct in you screaming that you need to be by the Kraken’s side, that you can’t let him die alone, that you owe him that much, at least. The man yanks out the blade and the massive entirety of the Kraken seems to shudder once, an entire mountain stilling as life leaves its body, before it seems to crumple down to the sand in slow motion before your eyes.

The Kraken. The legendary beast of the seas is dead. Gone like chaff in the wind.

Dead in seconds.

The man sighs, sheathing his knife back in his belt as he moves towards the Kraken. “No hard feelings, hafgufa.”

Then he steps forward and presses his mouth against its still corpse.

Revolted disgust surges in you and from the quiet retching next to you, Jongho feels the exact same way. Every part of you feels numb, from your trembling fingers to the way you can’t seem to feel the cold sweat sliding down your back. You seem to be able to hear every heartbeat in your ears, each one getting softer and softer. Your breath stutters from your mouth in short, uneven pants as you try to cling to reality, unable to be sure what you’ve just seen is actually true.

No. 

Please don’t leave me alone, hafgufa.

Its one crimson eye stares unblinkingly at you, glassy and unmoving in the silent throes of death.

The eye of your dreams.

“Run, Sǣr.”

The words barely brush your ears before the massive creature simply dissolves into sea foam without warning, disappearing into the sea and vanishing forever from this world.

You don’t even know why you’re wailing in deep, indescribable grief as Jongho pulls you into his arms, burying your face into his chest. You never knew the Kraken, never even heard of its name except when Yeosang had told you about it, but there’s a deep rooted pain buried deep in you, all the way down to your very soul. 

He’s gone.


	51. Eyepatch

You don’t know what to do anymore.

Everything is falling apart to pieces, the world around you, the people at your side, you yourself, crumbling into ruins. Yunho is suffering from poison, having been stabbed in the side by his dearly beloved brother himself, who is cooperating with Commander Kang, Vice-Commander of the Royal Navy’s Red Rose fleet.

He also happens to be Yeosang’s estranged father and the man with the antidote to Yunho’s poison. He wants your captain to give up his magical knot, the nautical maps, you, and Yeosang in exchange for pardons for the whole crew… and Yunho’s antidote.

Wooyoung is avoiding you like you’re down with the plague, refusing to look you in the eye and cutting short all your feeble attempts at conversation with curt, uninterested replies. He’s become like some sort of wraith, gone more times than he is present, and the immense loneliness that clenches deep in you doesn’t help at all with the pains that have started to emerge in your chest.

You’re terrified. Terrified about exactly what exactly is happening to you.

And then the Kraken…

The Kraken is dead.

Jongho had reported the incident to your captain the moment the four of you had returned to the vessel, him being more worried about the Royal Navy ship present in the waters as compared to the death of the Kraken, but you had barely reacted to his worried questions, unable to comprehend what you had just seen.

The ancient Kraken is… dead.

You sit against the mast in empty silence, watching the stars blankly as the ship sails beneath them on a sea reflecting the galaxies in the night sky, lost in the majestic wonder of the sight and in your thoughts. Tonight, the air is freezing, and instinctively your hand reaches out next to you, seeking for the usual warmth that is always present by your side.

Then your fingers falter, halting hesitantly in mid air when they find nothing but cold, empty space.

Despair wells up in you and your hand falls back to your side, limp. Your head falls forwards as you try to hold back the sudden, warm tears that threaten to slip from your eyes. It hurts, deep in your chest, as real and raw as the sporadic pains you’ve been experiencing since leaving the Grand Iguana, and perhaps if you’re honest with yourself, even more so.

When you close your eyes and wish hard enough, with all of your might, you can see Wooyoung’s content smile as he lounges on the deck next to you, eyes fixated on the stars overhead. Wish a little more and you can feel the comforting weight of his head resting on your shoulder, the warmth of your intertwined hands in the lining of his pocket. Even if it was all a lie, even if he had never really cared about you, even if you were nothing more than a game to him, you just want to stay in that single moment forever, trapped in your knitted cocoon of comforting lies.

But you don’t have time to be worrying about those things, you think as you aggressively wipe the tears from your eyes. Because there are so many more problems that you need to focus on, bigger ones that are looming over you in spite of your own troubles.

Yunho is still dying.

And San doesn’t have a cure.

“I don’t know how to create the antidote.”

You don’t know what you should do, to be honest. There are all manner of emotions rushing through you right now – fear – despair – hopelessness – anger; directed at yourself or someone else, you don’t know, but all that matters is that Yunho is dying.

And that neither you nor San can do anything to stop it.

Slumping against the mast once more, you let out another exhausted sigh. You’re tired, completely worn out, battered from the constant strain and worries on your mind. All you want to do is lie down and sleep, but you can’t bring yourself to go to bed in front of your master, who is still burning midnight oil night after night as he and Yeosang search fruitlessly for an antidote.

You can’t bear to see the haggard, gaunt expression on his face as he rifles through the same books yet again, knowing full well in his heart that they don’t have the answers he needs, that only powerful magic could hope to have any sort of effect on the poison. You can’t continue to hear your master sob quietly to himself every night from under your covers as his worry for Yunho and the sheer weight of his failure takes its toll on him, the candlelight flickering across his face only making the tear tracks on his cheeks all the more pronounced.

And in the morning, when he wears a bright, falsely cheerful grin, telling you that everything will be alright, guilt eats away at you like a starving man when you know that he is the one who needs your comfort instead.

You bury your head in your hands with a soundless scream. Your sanity feels like it’s ripping apart at the seams, unraveling and crumbling to ash. There are too many worries and burdens stifling you from within, choking you like poisonous ivies, the thorns digging into your lungs and suffocating you of the air that you so desperately need. You want to spill everything in your chest to someone else, to relieve the burden from your shoulders, but who would be able to lend you a listening ear at this time of the night?

You glance about the deck instinctively. All your crewmates are sleeping below decks, San and Yeosang are tirelessly researching into the night for a cure, Wooyoung still won’t speak to you, and your captain… he…

Actually, why don’t you speak to your captain?

Leaping to your feet, you nearly trip over empty air in your haste as you scramble to the captain’s cabin. To your immense relief, you can see the faint flicker of candlelight coming through the glass windows, signifying that your captain is not yet asleep. You raise a trembling hand, and after a moment of hesitation, rap on the heavy wooden door with your knuckles.

Knock, knock, knock.

You’re left hanging for a moment when there’s a brief moment of silence, but before your hand can fall to the side in disappointment, a soft, raspy voice comes from behind the closed door.

“Come in.”

Relief floods through you and you pull open the door, stepping into the dimly lit interior of your captain’s cabin. Knowing that he usually sleeps in the hammock in the corner, your eyes flit there at first glance, but you’re surprised to find it empty. Instead, you finally see him at the glass window overlooking the sea, lounging on a chair there as he stares unblinkingly at the scene outside. He’s in a state of casual undress, signature red jacket slung over his shoulder and the top two buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows as his fingers dance absentmindedly on a sheaf of thick parchment paper on his lap.

Then the smell of alcohol hits you like a punch to the gut.

In his other hand is a bottle of liquor, and from the pungent scent it’s a strong, powerful one. For a moment, you’re actually worried; is your captain too unable to cope with the pain and fear of losing his friend? Taking a hesitant step forward, you call out to your captain softly.

“Captain? Are you alright?”

If Hongjoong is surprised that you’ve come to search for him in the wee hours of morning, he doesn’t show it, subtly sliding the bottle of alcohol behind a curtain before he begins to tidy the papers on his lap as if he hasn’t heard your question in the least. When he’s satisfied with the state they’re in, he finally turns to glance at you.

“Ahh, Chin Hae, what do you need from me?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Because your captain, Kim Hongjoong, is not wearing his eyepatch.

You’ve never actually thought about what was under that slip of black cloth. As the eyepatch has just… always been there, in some way you’ve forgotten that beneath your captain’s eyepatch, there are the scars of your captain’s childhood. You remember that your captain had told you once how his father had abandoned him on an island and shot him in the head, causing him to lose his eye in what must have surely been a traumatic accident for any child.

But the alcohol must have addled with your captain’s mind a lot more than you’d thought, because he doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that he’s not wearing his eyepatch, instead cocking his head curiously to the side as he awaits for your response.

Your own eyes trace his face, lingering on his right eye as much as you try to tear your gaze away in polite courtesy. The eyepatch is such a big part of his wardrobe, even more significant than his red jacket itself, that you feel like he’s bared a part of himself to you without intending to.

You’re not going to lie. The scar is ugly, shallow ridges of scar tissue joining his skin of to his cheek, slightly fainter in colour than the smooth, unblemished skin around it. It mars what you would have almost called a flawless face, an unsightly stain upon what was once a perfect, white canvas.

You can almost imagine the sight happening before your eyes. Your captain as a young, innocent child, still with both soft green eyes and not yet exposed to the horrors of the world, scrambling backwards desperately in the sand, terror sending his body into sheer mind numbing panic as the one person who was supposed to protect him raises a musket to his head.

And it’s the last thing he’ll ever see out of that eye.

Your captain’s other eye, the healthy, working one, is a hazy green, dulled by the alcohol and pain. It takes him more than a second to realise what you’re looking at, his mind fogged over with liquor, but when he does, you’re terrified, yanking your eyes back to the ground as you can.

But it’s already too late.

“Get out!” Hongjoong roars, every syllable trembling with rage, rising to his feet in one explosive action. The papers on his lap slide to the ground and scatter everywhere, but they’re the least of your troubles right now. At the moment, you’re a lot more concerned about how your captain is practically looming over you, handsome face twisted in fury, warm breath hitting your cheeks. Your eyes are drawn back to his eye once more, almost instinctively, and Hongjoong clamps one hand over the scar, so hard that his fingers turn white, turning away from you so you can’t see it any longer, shoulders wound tight with tension.

Your heart breaks.

“Captain-”

“I said, get out.” He seethes, making to move across the room to his table, where his eyepatch lies. But the alcohol must have affected him a lot more than you thought, because he only manages five steps before his knees give out beneath him and he crumples to ground in a limp heap with a cry of pain. A yelp of horror leaves your mouth and you rush to help him, but he merely waves you off, one hand still pressed tight over his eye.

The message is clear. He doesn’t want you seeing his eye.

“Get me my eyepatch.” Hongjoong manages through gritted teeth and you scramble to obey, feeling the rough cloth beneath your fingers as you pluck it from the tabletop. Your captain practically snatches it from your hands when you return with it, yanking it over his eye as fast as he can.

The two of you remain there for a moment, your captain trying to get his breathing under control as you merely stay still before him, afraid to move. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and it’s only now that you notice his sallow cheeks, the old rum stains on his shirt. He’s been drowning all his fears and sorrows in liquor, and your heart only shatters more when you recall the brave front he’s been putting on in front of you and all the crew.

“I’m… I apologise.” Hongjoong finally rasps and your eyes dart to his face. His fingers still linger at his eyepatch, as if subconsciously trying to hide his scarred eye, his expression almost unreadable, forlorn, defeated. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. You should go.”

Part of you does want to leave, terrified of what might happen if you stay here any longer. But even more than that, you’re worried about your captain. He’s clearly completely drunk on both alcohol and his emotions, and you can’t just leave him on the floor like that. So, mustering your courage, you put an arm around him and yank him to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in your chest when you do so, pulling him to Yeosang’s bed.

All the fight has clearly evaporated from your captain, because he merely goes along with what you’re trying to do, a complete turn from earlier when he’d been shouting at you to leave, albeit on unsteady feet. When Hongjoong reaches the bed, he simply topples over onto the mattress with a soft groan, eye shut as you sit next to him on the edge of the bed, a hundred and one questions running through your mind with nowhere to begin.

“Why?” You manage to whisper, the question soft to even your own ears. Exhaustion and alcohol must have loosened your captain’s tongue, because he actually answers you, voice so forlorn it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I…I couldn’t help it… I felt like such a useless captain.” Hongjoong breathes into the silent room, voice laced with pain and depression and guilt. “Yunho got stabbed because I was too slow. Yeosang and you are wanted because I failed to protect the two of you. Now, we have no cure to save Yunho, but I… I just can’t give either of you up to that bastard. I don’t want to make a choice, so I’m trying to forget, but it just isn’t working.”

Everyone on board of this ship, Yeosang himself included, have reassured you that your captain would never give any of you up, but to hear it for yourself, with your own two ears, means so much more to you. Some sort of relief settles in you, but it doesn’t last long.

Your captain lets out a self deprecating chuckle. “I’m such a selfish man, aren’t I?”

You don’t know what your captain is talking about. What does he mean that he’s selfish? Kim Hongjoong is one of the most kind hearted people you’ve met, willing to go to any extent for his friends and crew, you included. But when you open your mouth to refute, your captain speaks once more, voice slurring ever so slightly over his words.

“Hey, Chin Hae… I’m terrified.”

The pained whimper that breaks forth from him is the final blow to your heart as you feel it shatter into teeny tiny pieces. You have this urge to comfort him, to reassure him in any way that he’ll be alright, but then Hongjoong is sitting up on the bed once more, green eye clouded with desperation as he grabs you tight by the shoulders.

“You can’t die, Chin Hae.” Hongjoong’s voice is shaking with some sort of deep rooted fear as his gaze searches yours. “Please… no, that’s an order. I order you not to die, Chin Hae. I… no… I won’t be able to bear it if any of you die so please…” His voice breaks at the last word and a single tear rolls down your cheek at the sheer anguish in his words. “Please… please don’t die.”

He’s begging you.

“I’ll take all the danger, all the pain, everything. Please, don’t do anything dangerous.” He continues rambling weakly, head bowed before you in supplication as he pleads with you. He’s drunk. Too much so, you think blankly, your heart ripping itself to shreds at his words. “Getting tortured… even dying would be a better fate than losing any of you, so please…”

You’re frozen, unable to move an inch at the sheer wretchedness of his pleas. Your captain, your stupid, foolish and utterly selfless captain, doesn’t care for anything else except the safety of his crew. Your captain, who is always a pillar of support to all of you, perhaps doesn’t realise that he too, needs comfort as well.

Hongjoong is still mumbling ‘please’ brokenly under his breath, tears actually streaming down his cheeks as he begs you to stay alive and safe. You don’t know what to do, one hand coming up to grip the fabric above your chest, right where your heart is.

How? How are you ever going to tell Hongjoong about how your life might just be ending soon?

At this point, you don’t even know how to worry about yourself. Instead, you’re more concerned about what will happen to your captain if you do die, because how can you bring yourself to worry about you when your captain cares for your life more than his own?

The answer is simple, really.

You can’t.

This isn’t like that time from so long ago, when the biggest secrets you’d been keeping from the crew was the fact that you were a woman. Your captain is already tearing himself apart from the inside over all the problems he has to face now, what would happen to him if you told him you were dying and there was likely no way he could fix it?

He’d go insane.

So, as you hold back the tears that are desperately trying to escape your eyes, you pull him close in a hug and he clings to you, as if he’s drowning and you’re a lifeline. You press your nose into his shoulder and pat him, rubbing soothing circles into his back much like San used to do for you.

“I won’t die.” You lie through your teeth, and your heart clenches painfully, seemingly aware of your fibs. But Hongjoong nods desperately, trembling uncontrollably against you, your legs tangled in the blankets.

“You promise?” His voice is so weak, so afraid, that the tears spill over your lashes and onto your cheeks, soaking into his shoulder. You attempt a reassuring smile, but even to you, it’s forced and brittle, like flaking clay that has been left out in the sun too long.

Your reply is nothing but a sweet lie, one that you know you cannot possibly keep.

“I promise.”


	52. A Knock To The Head

“We’ve sailed from Grand Iguana, through the windward passage and we’re now at the Cayman Islands.” Hongjoong traces a line on the map in front of you on the table, and your eyes instinctively follow his finger to see three small islands off the southern coast of Cuba. “The two eastern islands have established Royal Navy towns, so I doubt they would choose those places as negotiation points.”

“So here?” Yeosang taps a spot on the aged vellum, a blob of ink smaller than his fingertip floating beside to near identical, smaller islands. Mingi glances over his captain’s shoulder, chewing on his lower lip nervously as he considers the location in his mind.

“Commander Kang may be a bastard, but he does his job right. He wouldn’t want any of the townspeople caught in the crossfire. But the western island is mostly forested… perfect for an ambush.” The quartermaster mutters, but there’s apprehension in his eyes as he glances over at Hongjoong. “Are we really going to do this, captain?”

You want to ask the same thing. Because you think your captain has finally gone crazy.

Two days ago, the morning after you’d seen his right eye in his drunken state, Hongjoong had come out from his cabin and announced to the crew that they were heading to the Cayman Islands.

You had dropped your breakfast sandwich in shock, unable to process what your captain had just said. Even Seonghwa, who had been distributing the first water rations of the day, had simply stared at his captain for a long moment, eyes so comically wide you would have laughed if the situation you were in hadn’t been so severe.

Was your captain really about to trade you and Yeosang for the antidote?

There had been a pause, a grim silence that filled the air, before the younger battlemaster had stormed forward and grabbed his captain by the lapels of his shirt aggressively, yanking him up to meet his eyes in a show of blatant disrespect.

You had never seen Jongho so furious.

“I thought we were going find the antidote?” Jongho had demanded, eyes burning with barely subdued rage. “What about Yeosang-hyung and Chin Hae, huh? Are you really going to give the two of them up like that?”

Fear had rushed through you at Jongho’s words as images flooded through your mind. Heavy ropes around your wrists, your feet bound in chains. The burn of the noose around your neck. The hooded face of the executioner as he pulls the lever.

Then nothing but darkness.

But before you could descend into a full on panic attack at the thought of your own cold blooded death, Hongjoong had answered with a single, determined word.

“No.”

You had been utterly confused. How then, was your captain intending on getting the cure from Commander Kang if he wasn’t going to give up Yeosang and you in exchange for it? The Royal Navy’s vice commander wasn’t about to just hand over the cure to you for free! Jongho must have felt the exact same way because his grip on his captain slackened ever so slightly as he gaped at his hyung.

“But-”

Your captain’s reply was blunt.

“We’re going to take it by force.”

And that was how all of you had ended up in this situation.

You glance at Seonghwa, who looks every bit as apprehensive as you are. There’s doubt in his gaze as his eyes flit over the more detailed map at the side, analysing the layout of the island with a frown on his face.

“There’s a lot of vegetation and a hill a short distance from the shore.” The cook points out grimly. “It’s likely they’ll have set up base at the top of the hill so they can see us coming, and from upper ground they’ll have the advantage in a fight. Captain, are you sure you want to do this?”

Even Jongho, who had been the most vocal in his opinions about not giving you and Yeosang up, glances at his captain worriedly. You can see that he’s formulating battle plans in his mind, weighing risks and calculating potential threats. “Captain, there might be an entire battalion waiting for us there, not to mention Yunho-hyung’s out of action. Are you really sure about-”

But your captain clearly isn’t in the mood for doubt, because he merely rises to his feet to give all of you a silent, piercing stare.

“My crewmates are in danger. There is no way I would give up Yeosang and Chin Hae. If they aren’t going to give me a way out, I’ll create one myself.” He pauses to look at every one of you in the eye with a burning look that sears your very souls, although when it reaches you, his gaze softens ever so slightly. “Are all of you with me or not?”

When no one answers, he continues to speak, his voice now taking on a more sombre, gentle tone. “You know I wouldn’t blame any of you if you chose to stay out of this battle. I can see that the odds are near hopeless myself, but we’ve overcome the impossible before. Sirens, witches, magical storms. As a crew, I do believe that we can do anything. We’re a family that can pull through any storm, as long as we’re together.”

There’s a long silence as your captain’s words sink in.

We’re a family.

Finally, Mingi puts down the papers and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Your captain stiffens at the sound, drawing himself up to full height and getting ready to rebut whatever his quartermaster has to say, green eye narrowing with the ferocity of a lion. You and Yeosang exchange nervous looks; is Mingi about to tell your captain how absurdly reckless this plan is?

The tall man opens his mouth to speak.

“I can’t believe you have the gall to pull emotional shit in this kind of situation… and it actually works.”

You nearly choke on your own spit and a tiny smile splits your captain’s tense expression down the middle, a breath of relief escaping his mouth. “Watch your mouth around me, Mingi-ah.”

The quartermaster merely rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Yes, captain.”

At Mingi’s words, the weight on all of your shoulders seem to lift ever so slightly. Mingi doesn’t think that the two of you aren’t worth the risk and he’s willing to plunge into the dangers of the unknown to keep you with the crew. You’re oddly touched and even though you don’t really think this is the time for that, you just want to give the tall quartermaster the biggest hug you could ever manage.

Then you think the idea through and immediately shake your head.

Jongho nods seriously, but you can see the relief in his eyes and the happiness he tries to hide from all of you as he distracts himself with laying out a battle plan. “I think we should send two teams. One goes around the side of the hill to snuff out any ambushers in the vegetation in a pincer formation and the other attacks head on, since we don’t have any time to waste.”

Mingi’s gaze switches from lighthearted to intense in seconds as he scrawls out Jongho’s words out on paper with a piece of charcoal in hand. “That’s a good idea. You take the main charge… I’ll take Wooyoung with me and go around the side to take out the reinforcements. It’ll be night when we reach the island, so we can move under the cover of darkness. San, Seonghwa, Chin Hae and Yeosang will stay on board with Captain.”

Yeosang nods in agreement. “That’s the best we can do.”

You’re utterly confused by all the battle related jargon that they’re throwing around, but before you can clarify what they mean, your captain cuts in with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Wait… wait a moment.” Your captain is rubbing his one eye with a scowl on his face, as if he can’t quite believe what they’re saying. Both Mingi and Jongho turn to glance at him with bemused looks on their faces. “You mean to say… I’m not going?”

There’s a moment of silence as the rest of the crew exchange wary glances.

You frown in confusion. That’s true. Why won’t they let your captain go onto land with the rest of the landing crew? You know your captain is exceptionally skilled with weapons and can take care of himself in a fight better than anyone else, so why would they want your captain to stay on board? Surely he would be an asset in a battle.

“Well, you know you can’t see very well in the dark because of your eye, captain-” Seonghwa speaks up cautiously. You barely have time to register his words before Hongjoong growls in anger, one hand reaching up to clutch the eye patch resting there.

You almost shiver at the dark tone in his voice.

“Curse this damned eye-”

“Captain, you know that we really don’t mind your eye.” Yeosang tries to soothe Hongjoong and you nod along, having seen under the eyepatch yourself before even if your captain may not remember it. “But if you do go along with them, you’d only slow them down.”

Hongjoong scowls in hatred. “But-”

“I’m going.”

All of you whirl around in surprise to stare at the door in shock.

It’s Yunho standing there, leaning against the door heavily for support. You can hear San clucking in the back in worry, “you can’t be moving around like that, Yunho, you need to rest–” Alarm rises in you, what is he doing up? This is just going to cause the poison to move faster through his bloodstream, and honestly, he’s in no condition for a fight. But the older battlemaster completely ignores your master, staggering forward on unsteady legs to stand before his captain.

“I need to go, captain.” His brown eyes are pleading, and you instantly know why Yunho so desperate to be part of the landing party on the Cayman Islands.

He wants to see his brother again.

Even from here, you can see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, hear his voice wavering. Yunho is weak, way too weak to move off this ship. It’s been a few days since Yunho’s been poisoned, and even though the poison is a slow acting one, you’ve witnessed Yunho’s body slowly destroying itself from the inside out with every day that passes right before your eyes.

As much as you hate to admit, you wouldn’t let Yunho onto land either. The battlemaster looks like he’d collapse in seconds if not for San supporting him by the arm, and who knows what Gunho would do to him this time?

“Yunho-ah, you’re really not in the best condition-” Seonghwa begins hesitantly, but your captain merely holds up a hand to silence the cook, green eyes burning into Yunho’s.

“Are you crazy?” Hongjoong tells him bluntly and you see Yunho flinch back, as if physically struck by his captain’s words. Then his jaw clenches in anger and your heart drops in your chest, anxiety spiking in you nervously as tension splits the air between Yunho and your captain.

“I need to go.” The battlemaster snaps back emotionally, eyes almost welling with furious tears as he stares down his captain with barely clenched fists. You can see your master swallowing in alarm as Yunho steps forward, almost nose to nose with Hongjoong. The sight is almost laughable considering that your captain is a head shorter than Yunho, but his presence is every bit as threatening as the battlemaster looming over him. “Hongjoong, I owe Gunho that much-”

“You owe him nothing.” Hongjoong spits venomously in response, the scowl on his face turning dark. You and Yeosang exchanged panicked glances, his hand grasping yours instinctively in fear. Is this going to escalate into a physical fight?

“I abandoned him back there!” Yunho grabs his captain by the shoulders, eyes wild with anger and grief. Jongho rushes forward to pull the taller man away, but the older battlemaster struggles against him, furious tears spilling down his cheeks. “I left Gunho all alone in that godforsaken arena, left him to die! Who knows what happened to him in there?”

“You did nothing wrong.” Your captain growls, hands fisting in the lapels of Yunho’s shirt even as the two struggle against each other, and you can see Hongjoong’s knuckles turning white.

Fear roots you to the spot as you watch the three of them grapple back and forth, Seonghwa and San merely clutching each other in shock. Yunho has actually lost his temper, for the first time since all the days you’ve known him, his usual kind brown eyes burning with rage that looks practically alien on his face.

But your captain’s words fall on deaf ears.

Yunho yanks himself from Hongjoong, tearing his arm from Jongho’s grip with a snarl on his face.

“I’m going, no matter what. I won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. Not even you, Captain.”

And with that, he whirls around to leave the cabin.

“Yunho!” Hongjoong snaps, but Yunho ignores him, hand twisting the doorknob as he steps forward.

You panic. All you know is that you can’t let Yunho out of your sight. If he does go, the poison will practically race around his body, slowly eating away at him from the inside until it kills him. He’s only lasted this long because of the little healings you and San have managed to perform thus far, but if he’s going to do something stupid like this, he’s going to be a dead man in days.

He’s almost out of the door.

So acting completely according to instinct, you grab nearest thing you can from the table next to you and smash it over Yunho’s head with all the force you can muster.

Hot tea goes flying into the air as the wooden base of the tankard collides with the back of his skull, so hard that you can actually hear the sound of wood splintering. He pauses, there’s a little intake of air as he hangs there, seemingly suspended in mid air for a second. Your mouth falls open in horror when you realise what you’ve just done.

You just hit the battlemaster in the head.

Then Yunho’s eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the ground.

There’s a moment of stunned silence as everyone in the room turns to stare at you with wide eyes, before San squawks in alarm and races to his friend’s side, checking him over for any signs of permanent damage. Luckily for you, he’s still breathing, chest rising with every intake of air and you nearly sag in relief.

You didn’t kill him.

“He’s out cold.” Your master declares and Hongjoong steps over to you, warm hands gently prising the tankard from your fingers which are still numb with shock. You can barely feel it leave your hand as he sits you down on Yeosang’s bed, fingers resting in your hair softly for a moment to comfort you.

“Thank you for doing that, Chin Hae.” Hongjoong says grimly as Jongho slings the unconscious battlemaster over his shoulder carefully and carries him out of the cabin door, San following close behind after throwing one last concerned glance at you.

“I’ll handle the wheel, captain.” Mingi tells his friend and Hongjoong nods. The quartermaster leaves with Seonghwa at his side, leaving you, Yeosang and your captain alone in the cabin.

Yeosang sniffles softly and you turn around to see him dabbing furiously at the tears in his eyes next to you. At the sight, you can’t help but let a few tears of your own escape and Yeosang pulls you into his arms as you cry quietly into his shoulder. You hate seeing Yunho in this state, absolutely loathe how you’re completely powerless to help him in a situation like this.

But there’s absolutely nothing you can do.

“Hey.” Hongjoong kneels before the two of you, taking both your hands in his. You glance up at him through teary eyes and he raises a hand to your cheeks, swiping the tears left there with his thumb, so gentle it almost makes your heart ache. “Don’t blame yourselves for this, alright? We’ll get past this.”

And deep in your heart, you so desperately want to believe that it’s true.


	53. Darkness

You’re standing at the bulwarks as you watch the crew preparing to storm the island.

The main deck is in a flurry of activity, the pirates gathering weapons and priming muskets. Even you aren’t spared from the hard work, you’re helping the men pack gunpowder into tiny bags for them to bring when they head ashore. There’s a sense of unease hanging heavily in the air, a prickling feeling creeping across everyone’s skin as they all take turns to glance worriedly at the approaching island, the ominous shape of it looming against the night sky like a harrowing nightmare.

Something uncomfortable lingers, tangible paranoia slithering over you.

“Are you worried?”

You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Your master appears at your elbow, one arm slipping around your shoulders to pull you close. A sigh leaves your lips and you lean into his embrace, taking comfort in his warmth, inhaling the scent of wildflowers and herbs lingering on his skin. The familiar smell calms you down, if only a little.

“Yeah.” You answer honestly as Mingi commands a group of men to lower the anchor. The Treasure is set to be moored just off the eastern coast of the island, the only place where the waters are deep enough for the ship to be anchored without being beached. The plan, carefully laid out by Hongjoong, is for majority of the crew to disembark the ship and split into two teams. The first group is to ascend the hill located in the centre of the island as fast as possible, find Commander Kang or Jeong Gunho, get the antidote and bring it to Yunho as fast as possible. This team would be led by Jongho.

The role of the second team is to sweep through the forested area of the hill and take out any… unpleasant surprises there and keep the first team safe. This group would be under by Mingi and… Wooyoung.

You glance behind your shoulder to see Wooyoung sitting against the bulwarks alone, purple hair falling into eyes dark and silent as he focuses on lacing up his boots, primed muskets and small blades strapped all over his body, completely unaware of your gaze on him.

Something sinks in your chest when you look at him.

Wooyoung hasn’t spoken to you since that day on the mast and it’s been weighing on your mind almost as heavily as Yunho’s plight. You know, you know that you shouldn’t be so selfish, that you shouldn’t be thinking of the problems in your friendship with Wooyoung at a time like this, but you can’t help it. Over these last few days, there’s been a sinking feeling in your chest as you hope that maybe he’ll just speak to you, just look at you in the eye, but all your hopes have been for naught.

You sigh, and it’s at this moment that someone else steps up behind your shoulder.

“You alright, Chin Hae?” Hongjoong’s voice is steady, but you can see the genuine concern in his eye. You nod awkwardly as San’s arm tightens around your shoulder, trying to provide you with some comfort, but at this point, you don’t think anyone could give you any semblance of relief. You’re too worried, too tense, and even though you’re not the one physically going onto the island, you’re just as worried as any of the boarding party.

What if the antidote isn’t there?

What if the boarding party is overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Royal Navy’s crew? From what Hongjoong had told you, a Royal Navy frigate like the Black Crow carries large numbers on board.

What if… what if they die?

“I have a bad feeling that I missed out something in the plan…” Hongjoong mumbles under his breath and San clips his captain over the head, causing the older man to yelp in pain, scowling at his crew member.

“San! What in the depths of hell was that for?” Your master groans in exasperation and buries his face in his hands.

“You’re not helping things, you know!” San scolds his captain and Hongjoong looks like he’s just been smacked across the face, nearly shrinking into himself at San’s chastising. You’d find the sight hilarious had it not been for the circumstances you are in, the nerves weighing in your gut too heavy for you to even force out an amused smile.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” Hongjoong’s voice trails off as his hand hovers awkwardly at your shoulder before it clasps down, warm and gentle, soothing, almost. You attempt to give him a reassuring smile, nodding at your captain. You know he must be going crazy at being forced to stay behind on the ship while the rest of his crew puts themselves in danger, that he can’t be part of the boarding party like the rest of the crew, but he’s reining in his own frustration to comfort you.

He’s truly selfless.

You bite your lower lip. “Yeah… I’m fine, captain.” The words leave your mouth more naturally this time, not as forced as they were before, as if some part of you now truly believes that. San lets out a sigh of relief and pulls you closer for one last hug, before releasing you, patting your head reassuringly. Shaking your head in response, you turn to glance at Wooyoung’s silent form one last time before they disembark the ship.

Then you stumble.

The vertigo comes out of nowhere, sweeping through you and you nearly lurch to the side as the nausea and pain washes over your entire body, threatening to swallow you whole. It throbs, agony radiating from your chest right where your heart lies, outwards and throughout your form and you somehow register, through the haze of pain and panic, a sickening feeling building up in your throat.

Something metallic and warm.

Blood.

Your body rejects it immediately, trying to expel it from within you with a forceful cough. You’re used to this, it’s been happening more and more constantly over the last few weeks ever since you’d left that sea witch’s island. It’s been a pain to hide it from the rest of the crew, to keep it under wraps from Seonghwa’s watchful eyes and San’s keen intuition, but never impossible.

But this? The pain has never been this tormenting before, like white hot flames searing your very flesh, reducing your body to nothing more than ash. Your hands rush to cover your mouth, warring a battle against your own body as you desperately fight to hide the state that your body is in from your master and captain. You can’t let them find out that you’re ill, not at a time like this, at least!

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae! What’s wrong?” Warm hands come to hold you by the shoulders, voice edged with worry and concern. Even though you’re near blinded by the pain, your fingers somehow find his as scorching fire licks at your very bones, and you find yourself pulled into his chest as his arms wrap around you to keep you upright.

“Chin Hae!” San’s voice, alarmed and panicked, rings in your ears as if you’ve been struck over the head hard with a hammer, tears pricking at your lashes as you try to keep your balance. Your captain is strong and sturdy for one so lithe, you can feel the hidden, coiled strength in his chest and arms when you’re in his embrace, and for a moment, you just want to close your eyes and collapse so that all this pain can just finally end-

“What’s happening? San!” Your captain’s voice is laced with worry, sharp as a whip as he seeks his healer for an answer. But you know that San has no idea what is happening either, this secret yours to keep, buried deep in your chest.

“I don’t know!” Your master yelps, his voice unnaturally high pitched and trembling. You haven’t heard him this worried since the time Yeosang got shot in the back… and that was a matter of life and death. Your hand tries to lift itself of its own accord, wanting to find your master and tell him that you’ll be fine, that this is nowhere as serious as Yeosang dying…

As if in response to your thoughts, the pain leaves your body all at once like an ebbing tide, fading like a wraith in the morning daylight. You’re left trembling against your captain, his words fading in and out of your ears as he catches you before you fall to your knees in front of him, strangely exhausted.

“Chin Hae! Are you alright?” Hongjoong’s words nearly crack with fear as he pulls you upwards, so that your chin is resting against his shoulder and his arms are supporting your weight. San hovers behind anxiously and studies the sickly pallor of your face, as concerned as you’ve ever seen him.

Your heart softens at their genuine worry.

“Yeah…” You manage to croak out, trying your best to return to standing on your own two feet so you can show them that you’re perfectly fine. You don’t want them to look at you like that, anxious and worried out of their minds. You want them to keep smiling, keep staying safe and happy, even if something does happen to you… “I’m just tired and got dizzy for a moment… Master, can I go and lie down for a while?”

“Of course! I’ll bring you there… you need to take care of yourself!” San slips into a long ramble of the necessity of self care and getting enough rest as his arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you away from your captain, carefully leading you down the stairs of the forecastle deck to the sickbay so you can get some rest.

Your captain is left alone on the forecastle deck, watching with a silent, narrowed eye as the sounds of the crew preparing to disembark without him fade to nothing but white noise in his ears. His single green eye darkens as his eyes follow your form, crossing the main deck with San at your side, the healer carefully ushering you into the gloom of the sickbay.

Something is wrong.

Night has fallen.

The forest is eerily quiet, the only sounds in the still night air being the bell-like chirps of the crickets and the hushed murmuring of the men beneath as they discuss their next move. But Wooyoung tends not to concern himself with battle strategies and plans.

That’s Mingi’s job.

Instead, he rests on the boughs of one of the many trees scattered across the hillside, eyes shut as he concentrates on slowing his breathing, practicing what Seonghwa had taught him so many years ago.

Breathe in, count to five, breathe out, count to five, breathe in…

Wooyoung has always hated the still and silence of the night, the promises that the darkness brings, but this night, he hides away in the shadows away from prying eyes. He knows on the other side of the island, floating just a few feet offshore, is the Treasure, with you on it. Then he desperately tries to force every thought that involves your name from his mind.

No.

The memory surfaces in his mind before he can stop it.

“Have you been to Grand Iguana before, oppa?”

Your smile is so vibrant, so genuine as you lounge back against the main mast, eyes shining. The outline of the island of the Grand Iguana is reflected in your gaze, bright and alive. He’s exhausted with worry, hasn’t slept much for the last three days helping San tend to Yunho, every bone aching with weariness, but when he sees you smile like this, everything seems to fall away in an instant.

Wooyoung doesn’t believe that he’s capable of loving romantically. The wounds that criss cross his heart like claw marks are still too raw, still too fresh, he can’t risk having himself torn apart again, be played by women who only use him as an object to fulfil their own sick desires. But you’re a friend. One of the crew. Important to him, yes, but nothing more than that.

If you’re nothing more than that, then he can let his guard down around you.

If you’re nothing more than that, you can’t use him that way.

If you’re nothing more than a friend, he’s safe with you.

Stifling a groan that threatens to fall from his lips, his fingers clench and unclench around the grip of the musket hanging from his side, as his other hand comes up to rub fiercely at his temples, trying to fight off the phantom pains echoing in his mind.

“Yeah.” Wooyoung manages to answer, his fingers closing around yours. He’s realised that he does it often, his hands searching for yours every time you’re close to him, as if magnets exist in him that draw him to your side instinctively.

Your hand is warm in his.

He tries to joke a little to brighten up your mood, aware that you’ve been driving yourself crazy with worry over Yunho’s plight. “Not a lot of pretty ladies here.”

The words surprise him the moment they pass his lips. He realises, with something resembling incredulous shock, that he hasn’t thought about women since… he can’t remember. Hasn’t felt the urge to remind himself that he’s the one who is in power now, hasn’t felt the need to search out a female body to satisfy his needs, hasn’t felt the desire to paint over those terrible memories with new, sexual ones…

You elbow him in the side and it startles him out of his momentary stupor, and when he sees the awkward, blushing smile on your face from his words, his heart constricts tightly.

It’s almost painful.

He doesn’t understand.

“It’s not nice to say that in front of me.” You tease lightly, looking a little downcast. His eyes are simply drawn to your features, admiring the slant of your nose, the softness of your cheeks, the gentle curve of your smile, the affection in your eyes.

You’re beautiful to him, he thinks to himself with a sigh. And you should know it.

Wooyoung’s hands raise to grip his hair by the roots tightly with a muffled scream, the shackles scraping roughly against his wrists. He was such a fool, such a fool, such a gigantic, massive fool-

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s taken both your hands in his, fingers running over yours. His lips descend to touch them with feather like kisses, wanting for you to know how much you mean to him, how you’re nothing like the women in his life before, how you’re an irreplaceable friend to him.

It’s just a few simple words.

His mouth opens to speak.

“I-”

Then his words falter and die on his lips, every warning bell in his mind screaming at him to stop right now before he says something he can never take back.

A sob rips itself from his chest. What did he want to say? Why… why had those three words, words he had sworn to never speak in his entire life ever again, come to mind so easily, so naturally, as if it were truly his own desire?

He couldn’t say it.

Couldn’t bear it.

Couldn’t face it.

So he had fled before you like a coward.

He couldn’t forget the look of utter hurt on your face. Guilt and regret had sunk in a few days after, but he didn’t know how to look at you in the eye again without feeling those phantom pains across his body all over again.

They were scars, physically, and he knew that more than anyone else. They weren’t able to hurt him any longer, shouldn’t be able hurt him any longer, but it was as his captain had cautioned him years back, when he’d first joined the crew.

“I might have broken your chains, but only you can free yourself. What I can do is be here for you. I promise.”

He can feel them.

The poisonous hands on his body, sliding up his bare legs and around his neck, yanking hard on his collar as he struggled for breath, tears slipping from his eyes as he fought to keep in his sobs.

The claws leaving crimson indents on his skin, the lips dancing across his skin, leaving a trail of bright red bruises in their wake, each one stinging painfully as blood trickled from them, leaving a mess of scarlet on the sheets.

The cold weight of the shackles around his wrists, seemingly weighing him down even though his hands were no longer bound-

“Wooyoung!”

Luckily, before he can descend into a full blown panic attack, Mingi calls from him from below. Wiping the tears from his eyes as quickly as he can, he ignores the weight of the shackles around his wrists and leaps down from the tree, landing nimbly on his feet.

“What do you need me for?” He clears his throat, but his voice is hoarse. Mingi doesn’t seem to realise the state his friend is in, eyes too preoccupied with scanning the area around them. Then he bends down to whisper into Wooyoung’s ear.

“Something… something seems off.”

At those words, Wooyoung frowns. Something is off?

“I don’t know… It’s just a nagging feeling in my chest.” Mingi curses and shakes his head, running his hands anxiously through his hair. “I can’t figure it out… it’s probably just paranoia or whatever, but it just…”

But Wooyoung’s no longer listening to him.

His mind suddenly runs through every conversation he’s had with Hongjoong, all the time spent poring over the maps with Yeosang, planning for this raid. It doesn’t make sense to him at first, the thought coming together slowly in his mind until the horrifying, stark answer spells itself out for him.

If the area the Treasure is now at the only place deep enough for a ship to drop anchor without getting beached and General Kang is already on the island…

His eyes widen in terror and he whips around to stare at the sea, barely visible if not for the slight moonlight rippling off the waves of the ocean.

“Wooyoung? Wooyoung, what is it?” Mingi grabs him by the arm and he merely spills the words that are at the forefront of his mind, his body numb with shock.

“Where is the Black Crow?”

He can see the exact moment Mingi understands what this means as well, his mouth falling open in shock as he whips around to scream orders at the men.

“It’s an ambush! They’re targeting the Treasure!”

Just as he says those words, the night sky lights up in a brief flash of light, followed by a sound Wooyoung is only too familiar with. His heart sinks in his chest.

The sound of a cannon shot.


	54. A Trap

The night is utterly quiet.

It’s silent, almost eerily so. You’re seated on the rigging of the mizzenmast (Wooyoung’s favoured one, you remember glumly), rocking back and forth gloomily with your feet dangling in empty air, lost in your thoughts. Far beneath you, the glow of a few lanterns ripple faintly across the surface of the sea, moonlight fading in and out behind the clouds like a phantom in the night.

You follow the trail that the moonbeams leave behind, eyes glancing up towards the sky. It’s dark out, the faintest sliver of white peeking out behind dark, roiling clouds – storm clouds. It’s as if they’re heralding the coming of something ominous, something grim… you’re not quite sure if you should feel worried.

Something tugs at the edge of your consciousness.

You frown, eyes casually scanning the decks beneath you but your breath remains locked in the cavity of your lungs, your fingers absentmindedly edging towards the blade at your hip. It’s no surprise that you’re tentative, on the edge, almost, with how vulnerable the Treasure is and the natural wariness that comes with the night, but before your gaze can wander too far from the ship something near the forecastle deck catches your eye.

It’s Yunho.

He’s leaning against the railings of the forecastle deck, looking wistfully at the dark outline of the island before him, a solitary figure in the lonely night. You wish you could go to him, comfort him in some way, tell him it’s going to be alright, but he’s stinging with raw hurt and betrayal right now. It might not be the best time.

After all, you were the one who had knocked him out with a wooden mug.

You can see the weary sag of his shoulders, the way his fingers are clenching and unclenching around the railings of the gunwales. If you were closer, you’d swear that his knuckles have turned stark white, bloodless, but it’s too high up atop the mizzenmast and it’s nearly dark out.

You’re filled with worry for Yunho. The older of the two battlemasters is still suffering from the effects of the poison, rendered helpless as he watches the crew literally go on their way to kill the brother he loves so much. Gunho might have betrayed him, but you know Yunho. Not very well, but enough, at least.

He’s too kind for his own good.

Sighing, you grip the handle of your cutlass tightly, tracing the well worn leather grip with a finger. In this case, you have to be selfish, you think. You pray that they find the antidote, and if necessary, that they’ll be able to kill Gunho or Captain Kang to get it. As much as you’d hate to see Yunho suffer from the second loss of his younger brother, Yunho’s life is more important to you.

“Chin Hae!”

Nearly startling in shock, you glance around wildly for the source of the voice, frissons of panic running through you. To your relief, it’s only your captain, standing on the deck and waving up at you, seeming to be a tiny ant to you from above. “Can I come up?”

You frown a little in concern, remembering how awful you were at scaling the mast for the first time even with Yunho beneath you, waiting for you in case you fell. You’ve never seen your captain climb the rigging before, so you lean over and peer down at him worriedly. “Yeah, but do you need some he-”

Your words trail off into nothingness as you watch your captain leap to the ropes, scaling the rigging gracefully like it’s been his natural habitat all along and you fight the urge to smack yourself across the face. Of course your captain is capable of climbing the mast by himself, in addition to double wielding cutlasses in a battle, captaining a crew, and steering a ship. Why did you ever think there was something your captain couldn’t do?

“I actually feel so stupid right now.” You mumble to yourself glumly as Hongjoong heaves himself over the yardarm, settling himself next to you with his legs dangling over empty air. Your captain glances at you curiously.

“Why do you feel stupid?”

You wave him off in self-exasperation. “Oh, no matter… I was just wondering how you’re so good at so many ship related things. You’re just really amazing, captain.”

A pink tint touches your captain’s cheeks at your words and he presses his palms over them to hide his blush, a small, shy smile breaking out on his face. He’s clearly embarrassed by your unexpected praise and you smile. “That came out of nowhere.” He comments lightly in an attempt to take your focus off him and you laugh joyfully.

“I was just thinking that you’re really capable, captain. You must have a lot of natural affinity for this kind of thing.” You tell him honestly and Hongjoong sighs, shaking his head as he looks out across the waters.

“I’ve been learning how to do ‘these kind of things’ since young.” He says softly and your eyes widen in surprise as you turn to him. You remember that Mingi had told you about Hongjoong’s story when he was younger, your captain himself had told you how he had been left for dead as a child by his own father, but you don’t really know your captain’s story before he came to be on the high seas.

So you look at him beseechingly with wide eyes, wordlessly pleading with him to tell you and he laughs, humouring your silent request with a nostalgic, tight smile.

“My father taught me all of it.”

You can’t help the little gasp that escapes your mouth. He’s talking about his father? The same father that had abandoned him on a deserted island? The one that shot him in the eye and left him for dead?

His father?

Hongjoong must see the expression of utter disbelief on your face because he simply smiles sadly, turning away from you to stare at the moon half hidden behind the clouds.

“When I was young, my father used to bring me sailing with him every single day.” Your captain swings his legs back and forth absentmindedly, eyes lost in the past as he reminisces his younger days. “He used to be the captain of a ship called the Maelstrom before I was born, but it got caught in the midst of a massive storm one day… the ship and its entire crew were killed.”

You feel something sinking in your chest, a strange emotion that seems out of place. Your hand rises to grip the material of the shirt above your chest with a frown.

Is that… guilt?

Before you wonder exactly what you have to feel guilty for, Hongjoong continues, softer this time. “My father was the only one who survived that shipwreck. So from the time I was a toddler, he brought me onto ships, teaching me everything I’d need to know to survive. I really think… I think he really loved me then, you know?”

You don’t know whether he’s trying to convince you… or himself.

“He used to tell me that I was the most important thing in the world to him… the key to finding his treasure.” Hongjoong’s fingers tighten around his eyepatch with a bitter smile. “He said that when I grew up, I was going to go on the biggest adventure of my life… that I would fulfill the sole destiny I had been born into this world for.”

Something uneasy roils in your gut and you freeze, goosebumps trailing across your skin.

It’s as if someone is walking over your grave.

You search the black seas about you urgently, feeling tension building up in the pit of your stomach, tuning your captain’s words out. Something about this isn’t right, you feel – no, you know – that something is wrong, wrong, wrong-

“Perhaps my father was a little delusional after the shipwreck, because he told me that he was going to find the sea g-”

“Shh!”

Hongjoong almost flinches in shock when you hush him but immediately picks up on the mood, frowning as he mimics your actions, eyes searching the seas about you for a sign of what could have made you so uneasy. You don’t know exactly what it was, but something turns and twists in you like a massive coiling serpent, that simple, inexplicable feeling that something just isn’t right.

You can feel it in your very bones.

“What’s wrong?” Your captain whispers but you ignore him, leaning forward at the mast to stare at a tiny cove just at the side of the Cayman Islands. You don’t know why and you don’t know how, but there’s a near tangible force that pulls your eyes towards it, your fingers turning white around the rigging as you squint, trying to make out something in the inky blackness.

You don’t know how your mind makes this connection but it simply does, every alarm bell screaming in your head for you to just get it. You try to listen to your mind, try to connect the dots, but it seems utterly hopeless for a moment.

Then it hits you.

“The Crow.”

Oh no.

Oh no.

“Chin Hae?” Hongjoong glances at you, concerned, shaking you lightly by the arm. “Chin Hae, what is it?”

You turn to stare at him with panic stricken, horrified eyes.

“Where is the Black Crow?”

It takes a second for the words to sink in, but you can see the second that the implication of what you’ve just said dawning upon him. It seems so obvious, now that you’ve finally put the pieces of this seemingly simple plan together. They knew of and took advantage of the crew’s desperation to save Yunho.

It had been a trap all along.

“Chin Hae, fire the retreat flare!” Hongjoong shouts as he leaps down the mast, sliding down the rigging as fast as he can. His words blur around you like streaks of white noise, but you smack yourself out of your panic induced daze and fumble around in your pocket for the chemical concoction that Yeosang had been working on a few days ago, pulling out your flint and steel with shaking fingers.

Beneath you, the sound of a warning bell shatters the peaceful silence of the night.

You hear chaos happening on the main decks but you have no time to worry about it, frantically working to set up the flare. Just as you’re about to strike the flint, something else catches your eye.

Your breath catches in your throat and your mouth falls open in horror.

It’s a jet black ship, the shadows that had once cloaked it falling away as it leaves the darkness of the cove you had been staring at previously. Against the black sails you see the emblem of a crimson rose there, and even though you’ve seen the ship before, in the darkness of the night it truly looks like death itself has come for you.

The ship curves away from you and your heart drops in your chest, panic screaming in you as you can’t feel your fingers.

They’re numb with fear.

You don’t know how long you stay frozen there, but by the time you catch yourself, the Black Crow is pulling up beside the ship, a looming monster in the night. It’s the sight of the broadside cannons being wheeled out that snaps you back into action.

No. You can’t panic now of all times. You need to help, your captain has entrusted you with this task and you need to fulfil it before all of you die at the hands of the Royal Navy.

Biting down hard on your lip till the taste of copper and iron fills your mouth, you overwhelm your thoughts with pain instead, focusing at the task at hand. Your heart races a million nautical miles an hour and your hands are still shaking, but you manage to get a spark going right before the sound of cannon shot knocks you off your feet.

A scream nearly rips itself from your throat as you fall, wind whistling as you plunge towards the deck, suspended in air for an infinite second. Your hands flail about, reaching for something, anything, and by sheer dumb luck, you manage to cling onto the rigging with your fingers.

When you do manage to recover from your near death experience, gasping and heaving for air, you look up only to be greeted with the worst sight of your entire life.

Because standing at the bow of the Black Crow, sword drawn and head held high, is Yunho’s younger brother.

Jeong Gunho.


	55. Chapter 55 - Have A Hand

You drop to the deck, barely remembering to draw your blade in the panic induced haze clouding your mind. Your knees nearly buckle under the strain and you stumble forward, moving with only instinct to guide you through the chaos.

Luckily for you, you were on the mizzenmast before the pandemonium erupted, so you’re relatively close to the sickbay. Your feet take control of their own movements and yank you after them to the wooden door, your fingers scrabble around the handle and you throw the door wide open, the resultant crash barely registering in your ears.

Inexplicable relief floods you when you see your master there, hurriedly sliding a set of razor sharp blades into his belt. He whirls around at the noise, fingers on the verge of drawing a knife from his side, but when he sees that it’s just you, his face sags in relief and he crosses the room in three quick strides to wrap you in his arms.

For a moment, everything slows down around you, swirling into background noise in the back of your mind like you’re in the eye of a hurricane. There are no words exchanged between the two of you, you merely choke back a cry and bury your nose in your master’s shoulder – the scent of wildflowers and honey lingering on his skin – his arms around you firm and unyielding, like the mountain he was named after.

But all too soon your master pulls away and the gravity of the situation you’re in slams back into you like a returning wave, surging up in your chest. You stamp it down the panic down and wordlessly accept the pistol your master hands you, fingers gripping the firearm so tightly your knuckles feel like they’re about to pop.

“Let’s go.”

You don’t have time to think about the hopelessness of the situation at hand before your master yanks you out of the door and onto the deck. All about you, chaos reigns, the remaining crew doing their best to hoist the sails and make way before the Black Crow comes for them.

San pulls you after him, up the stairs and onto the quarterdeck. There your captain stands, watching over Yeosang with his cutlass drawn as the navigator works quickly to set up a long tube full of what you know to be black powder. It’s the second, major distress beacon that’s part of the relay system your captain developed long ago for situations such as these, to raise the alarm to every crew member that catches sight of it to report back to the ship immediately, regardless of circumstance.

And this is certainly not a circumstance you wish the crew was returning home to.

There’s shouting beneath you as the crew on the main deck works with every bit of strength they have to raise the sails, but it’s hopelessly slow – too slow, there’s no chance that you’ll be able to flee from the Black Crow. A sinking feeling grips you tight in the belly even as you realise this, because how could you possibly sail off when the rest of the crew is still ashore? What would they do when they return, drawn by the light of the danger beacon, only to run smack into the arms of the Royal Navy officers?

You swallow at the thought of your friends hanging from the noose… of Wooyoung dangling from the rope, limp and unmoving, never to greet you with those iridescent bright green eyes again–

No.

You can never allow that to happen.

By the time you look up again, steeling yourself for the unavoidable battle ahead, the dark silhouette of the Black Crow is mere feet away from you, you can see the deck of the ship bristling with vindictive officers, and you see one of them raising a musket to point right at Yeosang…

You whip around to scream a warning at him, anything, but Yeosang’s head is down as he draws his own musket from his belt, and you know, deep inside, that you’re going to be too late…

Memories flash through your mind like a lightning strike. The warmth of Yeosang’s arms around you as he pulls you protectively into his embrace, his pained gasps of your name as hot blood poured from his back, the blankness in his gaze as his eyes glossed over and you thought, in that agonising moment, that you were going to lose him…

Fiery hot panic tears through you, but something quieter, something more grim, something more terrifying than fear itself sweeps through you, overwhelming the terror in you. It’s like a bubbling well inside your chest, spilling just a few drops of freshwater onto the ground that has been bone dry for so, so long.

But it’s enough.

Enough for what? You barely have time to question your thoughts with silent curiosity, but before you can receive anything close to an answer, everything erupts into chaos before your very eyes.

One second you’re looking at Yeosang and the next, you feel a painful, sudden yank in your gut, as if there’s a rope attached to your navel and someone is tugging on it with all their might. Right as you double over in pain, a cry hanging off your lips, a massive wave surges upwards, seemingly rising out of the black sea heaving tumultuously beneath the deck and looming over both ships like a sea monster emerging from the depths.

You barely have time to scream before it crashes over the ship.

The shriek is ripped from your lungs as you flail about desperately in all the chaos, trying to find something to hang onto to prevent yourself from being overboard. All around you, you hear an immeasurable amount of water roaring in your ears, the primal howl of the ocean screaming like an untamed beast on the loose. The cacophony of dissonant notes and white noise blend together and scramble the inside of your mind, you feel like your skull’s about to split clean in half and you near collapse to your knees, hands buried in your hair as you try to search for some sort of anchor that can just make all the pain end–

Just as abruptly as it had come, the sea sweeps over the deck and runs back into the ocean before you can even fully register its presence. You’re left gasping, mind still in shambles, but when you whirl around, you’re shocked to see that all of the crew is still on board, not one of them have been swept into the unforgiving waves. In fact, the ship would look nearly untouched if not for the water steadily dripping from the masts and the crew sprawled on the deck, completely soaked and groaning from their near death experience but you…

You’re dry.

“Chin Hae! Chin Hae, are you okay?” Warm arms suddenly pull you to them and you look up blankly, uncomprehending, only to see the face of your master there, worry etched into the lines of his face as water drips from his hair. Then he pauses, flinches for a second, raising a hand to the corner of your mouth slowly, his eyes filling with growing panic. “You… you’re bleeding…”

The words snap you out of your daze and you clap one hand to your mouth as fast as you can in a panic, the other slapping your master’s hand away on instinct. To your horror, you feel warm, wet blood bubbling from between your lips, the taste of iron dominant in your mouth… His outstretched hand merely falls to his side, limp, eyes so wide with terror that in spite of the circumstances you are in, fear consumes you whole like a lion. How are you supposed to explain things to him now?

“Chin Hae, what happened to–”

“They’re boarding us!”

You grab that distraction with both hands and run for the stairs, looking down at where the main deck is. Not a split second later, you’re throwing yourself to the side with all the force you can muster, crashing to the ground painfully as something whistles by your ear, frighteningly close. Your heart jams to a halt in your chest as you feel every drop of blood drain from your face, leaving you feeling cold and trembling with fear.

Something thuds into the wood behind you, sinking into the railing and quivering there.

A crossbow bolt.

“I can’t believe I missed, though Captain did say to bring you in alive.” Gunho sighs good-naturedly with a smile on his face and an unloaded crossbow in his hands, they work to load another bolt into the weapon with such deft efficiency that you can’t help but be mesmerized by it. A human weapon is all you can think of, the locking mechanism clicks into place and Yunho’s younger brother runs his fingers through his hair, the water droplets landing on his cheeks. He looks so much like Yunho and nothing like Yunho, for there’s no way your crewmate’s warm brown eyes could ever look so chilling, so terrifying, like those of a cold blooded murderer… “But I guess one little bolt through that pretty leg of yours will make my job a lot easier, hmm?”

You barely have time to scream before he raises the crossbow and fires.

In the next second, someone crashes into you, knocking you to side and rolling over so that you’re pinned protectively beneath them, back pressed against the wet planks of the forecastle deck. You gasp, eyes flying open to look at the face of your saviour. To your shock, it’s your captain himself, though before you can even think about thanking him for saving your life, he’s already yanked you to your feet and shoved you behind him, cutlass drawn and pointed straight at Gunho.

Something warm trickles down your skin although you feel no pain, replaced by an unfamiliar, uncomfortable, cracking feeling…

To your horror, the young Royal Navy officer is standing between you and the stairs, San and Yeosang already on the edge, staring back at the two of you desperately as they’re torn between staying with you or fulfilling their duty on the ship. From the main deck you hear the clash of battle and the screaming of the wounded fills the air, they ring in your ears piercingly.

“Stay behind me, Chin Hae! San, Yeosang, get to the wounded!” Hongjoong shouts sharply over the din and you see the two crewmates stiffen at their captain’s orders, clearly reluctant on leaving you with the most dangerous man on the Black Crow after Captain Kang. But they don’t have a choice but to trust their captain’s decision, San turning back to meet your eyes with a fierce fury burning in them.

We’re talking about this once this is over.

Before you can respond in the least, he turns and leaves the quarterdeck, pulling the navigator after him.

Gunho shakes his head as he watches the two of them vanish into the pandemonium erupting on the main deck, the Black Crow looming over the Treasure at the port side, casting an eerie shadow over the main deck and blocking out the faint light of the half moon. With shaking fingers you grip the hilt of your own blade and unsheathe it, the cruel steel barely visible in the glow of the flickering torches. It’s never taken the life of another before and you hope it never has to, but to defend yourself and your captain, you’ll do anything it takes.

“Where’s my brother?” Gunho glances around casually, as if expecting the brother he’d stabbed to be up and walking about in less than a week. Your captain keeps his expression neutral even though you can feel his rage boiling beneath his skin, near seething – like a wild animal ready to pounce.

“Not anywhere you need to be concerned with.” Hongjoong snaps, his knuckles white around the hilt of his cutlass. Out of the corner of his mouth he whispers, so softly that only you can hear it, “When I give you the signal, run straight for the infirmary and barricade yourself inside. Take care of Yunho, okay?”

Before you can ask “what signal” in horror, your captain shoves you to the side and lunges forward, driving his cutlass forward in a direct strike for Gunho’s heart. You barely manage to catch your balance and glance back to see what on earth is happening, but what you see terrifies you too much for you to take another step towards the stairs.

Your captain is pinned beneath Gunho, the two wrestling for dominance as the younger boy slams his heavier broadsword down, pushing against your captain’s defensive guard. Your captain’s teeth are gritted as he wraps his legs around Gunho and tries to yank him off, his arms otherwise preoccupied with keeping Gunho from slicing his head clean off his body. You glance back desperately towards the stairs, the infirmary is right below, you could get there and barricade yourself inside with the iron bar, but your captain…

There’s a grunt of pain as the edge of Gunho’s sword bites into your captain’s palms, thin rivulets of blood sliding down his wrists and into his sleeves…

Your feet are moving before you make up your mind and you’re running back in the direction you’d come from, no matter how foolish you know you are, slicing down with your cutlass at Gunho’s exposed back.

You’re barely a distraction, but it’s enough. Yunho’s younger brother spins around to dodge the strike and shoves you to the ground instead, releasing your captain from his grasp. You go crashing across the deck and pain shoots up your arms and legs, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs and you hear something terrifyingly loud snap as your weak ankle from that gunshot in Nassau slams into the barricade.

Fireworks burst behind your eyes, little black spots dotting your vision and you can’t help the scream that forces its way out of your mouth, every nerve ending in your leg on fire as you instinctively curl up into a ball. But before you can tide out the waves of agony running through your body, a heavy boot grinds down onto your wrist and you cry out as your bones creak under the strain, pain lancing up your arm. You look up through tears of absolute agony only to see Gunho standing there, an amused smile on his face as he shakes his head at you playfully.

“As much as I admire your grit, dear, I really need to get my job done.” He pats you on the head lightly but applies more force on your wrist to the point you’re sure it’s about to snap, you thrash and pull through the pain of it all, struggling to get away from him before it’s too late. For all your efforts and desperation, in the end, it’s like trying to move a mountain – practically impossible.

Gunho draws a long, jagged knife from his boot, grinning down at you with a sadistic smile.

“This might hurt a little.” He says, light hearted and cheerful.

Before you can scream, he plunges the knife through your hand.


	56. Chapter 56 - By The Neck

You don’t even have enough time to scream.

Time seems to slow down just for you, your eyes instinctively drawn to that spot, right there at your right hand, above the bump of your knuckles, where you can see the raised bone beneath soft skin. The silver tip of the blade seems to hover in the air, a mere hair’s breadth from your delicate, human flesh… your lips form the words even before your mind does, but it’s already too late.

“Please, no.”

The blade sinks into your hand.

The feeling, at first, is simple, easy to describe. You feel cold steel against your skin for a split second, paper thin, before the knife enters your hand, cleaving through your flesh with so much ease – almost like warm butter, you think, dazed. Then it shoves through something solid, and you can hear the crunching sounds of the blade puncturing the bones in your hand right next to your ear, ringing through your head again and again… but it doesn’t seem to hurt. You blink, once, twice, mildly confused.

What happened–

Then the pain sets in, and suddenly, screaming doesn’t seem like enough.

Pain as vivid as anything you’ve ever experienced explodes from the wound like white hot firecrackers searing into your flesh, it tears at your skin and screams at you and overwhelms your mind in a cacophony of sheer, bloody pain. You don’t know where the agony begins and you sure as hell don’t know where it ends. It simply comes again and again like sea waves that pound relentlessly at the shore, torturing you indefinitely… it doesn’t end.

“Oh? Does it hurt?” Gunho coos gently and you choke out a sound that sounds inhuman even to your own ears – a twisted, unearthly scream from the depths of hell itself. Even through the blinding pain, you can still feel the metal embedded in your hand, the bones there shattered by the force and pinning you to the deck; even the slightest movement sends shockwaves of torment running down your body.

“Chin Hae!” You hear your captain scream from somewhere in your haze of pain and you cry out weakly, fighting the overwhelmingly instinctive urge to pull your hand to your body and curl up around it to protect the broken limb. But then Gunho steps on your hand, twisting it under the heel of his boot and carving a larger, irreparable hole into your body. You scream again, trying to yank your hand from under him even though doing so hurts so much you can’t see or think straight. You scream and scream and scream, tears cutting through the grime on your cheeks and you can taste salt and iron on your tongue, but you can’t move an inch, nailed to the deck of the Treasure by your own hand.

Gunho frowns down at you, one hand reaching down to card gently through your hair and you scream, thrashing in a desperate attempt to get away from his touch even if it means tearing your body apart. “I know, I know it hurts, sweetheart, but I can’t have you running anywhere while I go after your captain.”

Your captain.

He wants to go after your captain.

Horror and blind rage nearly fills you and for a stupid second, you nearly tear your own hand from the ground in fury; you’d never let him touch your captain. But you’re powerless to do anything as Gunho turns to face your captain, who too, is pinned to the deck with a knife through his sleeve, and there’s no way he’ll be able to fight Gunho off even in your wildest dreams…

“Captain! Run!” You scream out through your tears, your only hand lunging forward and fisting as tight as you physically can in the coarse fabric of his trousers – you refuse to budge an inch in the slightest. Your captain glances over at you in desperation as he sees the state you’re in, the expression on Gunho’s face darkening at your refusal to obey his words.

“ I really wanted to do a good job and bring you in to Commander Kang alive, but I suppose there’s no choice if you’re being difficult.” He crouches over you, drawing another knife from his belt and even beyond the chaotic symphony of pain, fear and adrenaline, terror curs clean like a razor sharp arrow arrow through all of it. “Let go.”

“Chin Hae, let go! Listen to me!” Hongjoong screams at you from behind Gunho, but you neither hear him nor listen, his words echo around in your skull like the ringing of an empty bell before they fade into nothingness. His voice cracks from desperation as he yanks at his sleeve, trying to free himself, but he won’t make it in time.

You know that too.

Let go! Your mind echoes his words, screaming self preservation at you. Let go, let go, let go!

But you can’t.

Instead, the world seems to collapse on itself around you, reducing the entire universe to nothing more than you and yourself. All of a sudden, as if you’re standing in the eye of the hurricane of chaos, a tiny voice speaks up, completely calm and still. You know this voice.

A pair of green eyes stare into yours behind your closed eyelids, burning a hole into your very soul. You know those eyes.

Green as spring’s rebirth, green as the beginning of life.

If you are going to die in the very end, you might as well do it for someone you love. At the very least, this way will be fast and quick, my dear… just let it end…

Right, you think dazedly. I’m dying anyway. So what if it happens now and not later?

“Chin Hae! I said, let go!” Hongjoong practically shrieks at you as he rips his arm from the ground and the sound of the tearing fabric rents the air, but at this point, Gunho’s knife is already poised right above your heart, ready to pierce through your beating heart.

Beating heart?

It feels like being underwater, those first few second when you first submerge your head beneath the waves. When sound disappears only for the space it once occupied to be filled with resounding, eerie silence, do you realise how much you’ve taken it for granted, how the absence of it is terrifying to even your own ears.

Right now, as you search desperately for the beating of your own heart…

You find silence instead.

Before it can fully sink in, the implication of what this could mean, Gunho is ripped from you and thrown bodily across the deck with a shout of fury that’s all too familiar. Your hand stings with heat from the friction burns left on your palm, but you don’t have time to bother with them right now. Yanking yourself upright, you turn towards the source of the commotion as fast as you can.

Gunho’s raising himself to his knees, eyes bright with mirth, sheer, manic excitement painting his face. Even though one of his wrists is bent backwards at a strange angle that can only mean that he’s badly injured, he doesn’t seem to feel it in the least, drawing his sword easily with a grin that borders on crazed.

“I see you’re still as robust as ever, brother.”

“Yunho?” Hongjoong stares at him in shock. And true to Gunho’s words, Yunho is indeed standing there, completely underdressed for battle with only a simple cutlass hanging at his waist. Just standing takes more effort than he can spare, you can already see the sweat dripping from his forehead and neck, the skin there flushed from exertion and paper white. Yet here he is, holding himself upright with sheer force of will, eyes burning with indomitable fire.

“Leave my crewmates alone.”

“Yunho! Stop! The poison will spread through your body if you keep moving and you’ll die!” You cry out, panicked at the state he’s putting himself in, but Yunho cuts your words short with a single sentence.

“There’s no point to being alive if it’s not with all of you.”

Your mouth falls open at his bold words.

“You want to kill me, don’t you, Gunho? Then come at me.” Yunho raises his fists, but you can see his knuckles trembling from the strain. Gunho takes a single, incredulous look at his older brother and laughs at him, his voice ringing out over the chaos of the battle happening on the main deck.

Then the smile melts right off his face to reveal something darker, more terrifying lying beneath that facade of youthful charm that scares you more than you thought it could.

“Are you kidding me, brother? Are you looking down on me?” His voice turns into liquid ice, burning with frost as a snarl leaves his throat. “You won’t even draw your sword to fight with me? You think I’m not capable enough of holding my own against you?”

Yunho doesn’t waver in the least. “I’m not going to kill you.” He says firmly, unmoving. But Gunho doesn’t take that kindly, in fact, it only serves to rile him up even more, his sword practically shaking in his rage.

With a scream, he throws his blade to the side and lunges right for Yunho, tackling him to the ground. The two brothers crash onto the deck with a heavy thud that you feel all the way down to your bones, rolling along as they beat and thrash against each other with all the ferocity of two wildcats aiming to kill.

“Yunho!” You cry out in alarm, stricken with worry for him, but before you can do anything, Hongjoong runs towards you, checking the hand of yours that’s pierced to the deck. Your fingers twitch weakly, as if trying to tell you they’re alright, and Hongjoong’s face falls, biting on his lower lip so hard a drop of bright crimson blood wells up there.

You want to tell him that you’re okay, that you can barely feel the pain there anymore, but your captain’s head falls, eyes unable to meet yours. “I promised I’d protect you, but you ended up getting hurt because of me… you fool, Chin Hae. You absolute fool.”

“Sorry captain,” you croak, not apologetic in the least. “But I couldn’t just not do anything, not when you were there and Gunho was just–”

Before you can say another word, Hongjoong is ripped from your grasp. Everything happens in the span of a single second, a blur of shapes and colours too fast for your eye to process, and in the next instant, what you see horrifies you.

Gunho’s standing against the rail, forearm pressed against Hongjoong’s neck and yanking upwards. Your captain is left dangling in the air, feet kicking out furiously and clawing against the bare skin on Gunho’s forearm, his face turning purple from lack of oxygen and gasping for air, leaving trails of blood running down the younger man’s arms. But Gunho doesn’t even flinch, raising a knife to press beneath Hongjoong’s throat, his eyes completely merciless.

“Will you fight me now for real now, brother?”


	57. Sudden

Yunho hesitates.

The pause is barely more than a second’s breadth, but it’s enough for Gunho to see the moment of weakness in his eyes. With a smirk, he raises the knife closer to your captain’s neck, the cold steel digging into the tender skin there so that crimson flows freely from it. Panic drops into your stomach and you almost try to tear your hand from the deck, uncaring of what would happen otherwise, but Yunho acts before you do.

In the blink of an eye, he draws a musket from his belt, raises it and shoots right at his younger brother.

You don’t even realise that your mouth has hit the deck in shock as Gunho screams in pain, yanking his hand away from your captain and you see a ragged hole torn straight through his wrist, rendering his hand completely useless as blood splatters across the wooden deck in a spray of scarlet. Hongjoong seizes the opportunity, wrenching himself free from Gunho’s grasp and stumbling to the side, gasping down deep lungfuls of salty air.

Without missing a beat, Yunho leaps forward, sweeping his cutlass from his side in a single, decisive motion.

And without any mercy, he strikes his brother down.

From the ground, you see every emotion flashing across Gunho’s face; first surprise, like the rosy hue of sunlight peeking across the horizon, then ferocity, blazing as the ball of fire at the peak of noon, before it dies down into something quieter, more resigned, a little more… sad, as the light settles behind the waves, as the fight in those eerily familiar brown eyes flicker out like a dying flame.

Acceptance.

Gunho crashes to the ground, rolls once, twice, before finally lying still. Blood gushes from the cut that splits his front from right shoulder to left hip, a long, clean gash that spills red all over the shirt he’s wearing, pooling around the body and seeping into the cracks between the boards, it’s everywhere.

Red, red, red everywhere.

“You can hurt me all you want.” Yunho whispers, eyes wide, chest heaving as he stares down at the corpse of his younger brother. “But don’t touch my crew.”

And as if that took all the effort out of him, he crumples to his knees like a marionette whose strings have been cut, heaving for breath next to Gunho’s still body. He retches, body folding into itself as he tries to keep from shaking, fingers curling futilely in the fabric of his brother’s tunic even when the blood turns his hands slick.

Hongjoong wobbles slightly on his feet, making his way over to his crew member’s form. His hands flutter uselessly, hovering over Yunho’s back before falling to his side, because he has no idea how to comfort his crewmate… doubts that there is a way, truly, to comfort someone who has just lost so much.

There’s nothing but silence for a moment as even the winds seem to fall silent for him, Yunho’s soft sobs echoing in the empty air. But suddenly, there’s a soft moan of pain, one that makes you shift nervously… and Jeong Gunho’s eyes flicker open.

Hongjoong immediately draws his own cutlass, ready to fight, but Gunho merely coughs weakly, hand reaching out for something with clouded eyes. “Com… Commander… Kang…” Blood bubbles from his lips, leaking from his nose, from his eyes, his ears. “Did I…did I win?”

What?

“The pain… it’s stopped.” Gunho smiles, wide and bloody, at absolutely nothing. “Do I… do I… finally get to see… my brother now?”

Yunho chokes on a sob, but Gunho doesn’t seem to hear him. In fact, Gunho doesn’t seem to hear anything, still reaching about in empty space, sifting through nothingness to find something… something precious. “Brother… do you see now? I am… strong enough… so… you don’t need to… protect me… anymore…”

“Gunho–” Yunho begins to cry out, but Gunho merely grins, sleepily, dazed, looking as young as he did all those years ago.

“It’s warm… is this what heaven is like, brother?”

Then the hand that had been reaching out so desperately falls, one last time, and there is silence.

“Gunho!” Yunho screams, latching onto his brother’s body, shaking him desperately but Gunho doesn’t respond, empty brown eyes transfixed on the moon that shines overhead. Yunho screams, sobs, shouts but Gunho still does not respond.

He’s dead.

You smell it first, like the scent of poison twisting your senses. It stings your nose and burns down to your lungs, and without thinking, you scream, “Get away from him!”

Hongjoong reacts instantly, dragging Yunho by the waist even as the battlemaster kicks and fights against his captain, struggles to reach his brother once again. But then the body seizes up strangely, as if having a fit, before it finally collapses once again.

This time, instead of blood, dirty, brackish water gushes from every orifice, from his skin to his eyes and in front of their eyes, Gunho’s dies another time, Yunho’s sobs of “no, no, no” echoing faintly in your ears. You so badly want to comfort him, but your mind, right now, is consumed by something else.

You know this feeling. It scares you, so so badly precisely because you know this feeling, or know what it once was… something of nature taken and twisted into something so vile, so malevolent that you need to get away from it, as fast as you can.

The poison is familiar because… it was the exact same poison used on Yunho. The same poison that had weakened Yunho so much, had sent him in delirium, the poison that had smelled, undeniably, of something magic.

But what was it doing in Gunho?

Yunho breaks down crying behind you, but you feel nothing, only emptiness. You feel like you’ve uncovered a secret that you would have rather stayed hidden, because this is only the tipping point of your fall over the edge.

Even as cheers resound below deck as the crew manages to force back the officers, even as Yeosang falls to his knees to comfort a crying Yunho, you simply stare at your impaled right hand with silent unblinking eyes.

And right before you, your skin cracks like broken clay.

San kneels at your side, unwilling to meet your eyes even as he begins to work on your hand. Guilt wells up in you, but before you can say anything, your master speaks, in a tone so emotionless you flinch. Real fear spreads through your body, but it’s not about your hand this time.

He knows.

“We have a lot to talk about.”


	58. Your Secret To Keep

You sit in the sickbay, quiet, uncomfortable as San moves around without a word. There’s the clatter as he mixes something, from the smell, probably some sort of herbal salve to prevent infection, but that’s not the most important thing right now. Even more important than your hand. Even more important than your pain.

You tongue the inside of your cheek nervously. San is practically stomping around the room, his movements only increasing in volume with every second that passes, you can clearly see the wound up tension building in his shoulders. That intimidates you, but you need to at least try to make everything okay.

It’s the least you can do.

“Master?” You begin, hesitantly. San doesn’t respond first, whether he can’t hear you or he’s plain ignoring you, you don’t know, but you swallow the lump in your throat and call, louder this time. “Master?”

San freezes, hands hovering over the work table. Suddenly lost for direction, aimless, without purpose. “What.” His voice is curt, short, trembling and when he finally turns around to meet you, his eyes scream “what” even louder, and you’re shocked to see that tears are clinging fiercely to his lashes, refusing to fall.

The sight stings like a whip to the face.

“Master–” You begin to say, desperate to fix this somehow, but San doesn’t look at you, fingers digging into the wood of his work table so hard that his fingers turn white. He’s angry, no, furious with you, that much is obvious.

How are you supposed to make things right?

You merely watch in silence as San takes three deep breaths to compose himself, the furious expression vanishing only to be replaced by an emotionless mask of steel. You’re not sure which one you prefer, the tension between the two of you merely thickens like growing smog. He continues smashing the marigold petals with more force than necessary, the sound of mortar meeting pestle going clack-clack in your ears like an ominous echo.

The sharp smell of potent marigold paste fills your nose, but its familiar scent isn’t comforting you, instead you close your eyes and try to will the pain in your hand – and in your heart – to go away.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wha-” You say, confused for a second before you realise, oh, that’s what he’s talking about. You had your reasons, sure, but speaking them out loud suddenly seems way too daunting a task for you to handle. You fumble around for the right words, but they don’t come to your mind.

“I said,” San repeats, through gritted teeth this time, and the fury makes his voice tremble. “Why didn’t you say anything about the bleeding?”

You press your lips together for a while, keep silent. Trying to figure a way to phrase your reasoning into words seems impossible at the moment and your head hangs while San doesn’t say a word either, the tension only growing between the two of you.

San finally finishes preparing the poultice with lips drawn in a tight line, his eyes don’t meet yours as he steps over to you with a bandage in hand. Crouching before you, he continues to avoid your gaze even when he picks up your hand with the utmost gentleness, as though he can’t bring himself to translate his rage into a physical form.

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.

He swipes a finger over the skin around the wound, taut expression unchanging, and a shower of tiny flakes fall to the ground. They look like snowflakes.

What are those?

“What are those?” San echoes your thoughts brusquely, curiosity clashing with some attempt to remain upset. You frown, confused, bend down to squint at the small shapes. But then San shouts in horror, staring at the hand that he has clasped in his.

Shocked, your eyes instinctively follow his gaze to the wound on your hand, and what you see terrifies the hell out of you.

“Master!” You scream, panicking. Everything is going haywire. “My hand… it’s–”

San cradles your hand urgently in his, as if that would be of any help to you, but it only ends up doing the opposite. The two of you can only watch in terror as a crack splits down the tip of your index finger, tiny web-like patterns splintering across the skin. Your heart leaps into your mouth, but before the two of you can do anything about it, your index finger breaks off completely, falling to the ground and breaking clean in half.

What?

San’s eyes dilate at the sight, his breath leaving him in unsteady, terrified pants. You feel no pain, but your heartbeat resounds in your ears, like a faint echo. You’re so calm you’re surprised and, raising your hand curiously, you see more cracks already starting to appear along the skin of your knuckles.

“Chin Hae!” San screams, alarmed, but you don’t hear his voice, instead you simply continue to stare at the webbed fissures blossoming across your hand, down to your wrist. The skin turns an earthy brown before your eyes before they fracture into tiny pieces, falling away like chaff blown away by the winds.

There’s another crack, a sharp breath, and then your entire hand falls to the ground.

It shatters into a thousand pieces.

You sit there, stunned, staring at the broken shards that had used to be part of your body. Where warm blood had once flowed through, you only feel empty pain there, a phantom ghost of what had used to be.

Instinctively, you try to wiggle your fingers.

Nothing moves.

There’s no blood, no nothing. Just a mere stump where your hand used to be, clay fusing with warm flesh at the joint of your wrist.

“I… I need to tell Captain.” San trips over his own words, stumbles over his own feet as he stands to make for the door. But the fingers of your remaining hand find his wrist, encircle it ever so lightly, that is enough to stop him dead in his tracks.

“No.”

San whirls on you, with wide eyes, you can still see shock in the depths of them. It’s clear that your master knows that this is a problem way out of his depth, one that he has no ability to resolve. “Are you crazy?” He demands fiercely, but you can hear his voice breaking. Guilt washes over you, but you force it down and meet his eyes with more calm than you should have.

“You can’t.”

Your voice doesn’t break.

“Why?”

San is furious, he’s powerless and yet here you are, taking away the only thing he can do, calling for help. He wants more than anything in the world to save you, needs to save you. He won’t give up, but you can’t let him tell anyone; most of all your captain.

“– you’re going to die if we don’t do anything about this, Chin Hae! You’ve been coughing blood, having nosebleeds, and now? I didn’t do anything about it and look what happened to you! I’ll be damned if I let you die after all this time, Hongjoong-hyung would be able to do something–” 

You waver for a second, the will in you crumbling. You just want someone to know, someone to help you, but you stay resolute in your decision, immovable as stone. Suddenly, the words come to your lips too easily.

“It wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

There’s a second of stunned silence between the two of you.

“What?” San repeats after you, he looks stupefied that you’d say such a thing. Then the words begin to tumble from your lips, razor sharp knives that tear into your master’s heart with each stab.

“What could he possibly do about this? I know he’s the Pirate King and all, but do you really think a mortal man with a mere blessing could save me from breaking into pieces?” You spit contemptuously, rising to your feet. Your words burn but you’re hollow inside, you continue speaking even as San’s expression turns more and more hurt. “Don’t lie to me. I was created by gods, San. Captain is human… he’s weak, powerless… He can’t save me.”

“He–” Your master begins to say, but even he falters ever so slightly in the face of the unconquerable odds laid bare in front of him. How could a mortal ever solve a problem of such a scale?

For the first time in his life onboard the Treasure, he doubts his captain.

Seeing him waver, you press forward, spilling empty words you don’t believe. “Besides, Captain has so much to deal with already, and it’s not like I’m dying or anything. Stop over-exaggerating, master.” You roll your eyes, get to your feet, and the sound of a tiny sob escaping your master behind you nearly breaks your heart. Why do you feel like crying? “Do you really want to make Captain take on more burden than he already has? It’s not his fault that you aren’t a good enough healer to cure me.”

A soft wail leaves your master’s lips, but you hold your head high and step into your shared bedroom tucked behind the infirmary, slamming the door shut behind you.

And for the first time, you lock it.

Finally, with no eyes on you, you sink to the ground and begin to cry, quietly into your sleeve. Sobs pulse in your chest, tear at you from the insides, struggle against you like the wings of a bird, but you suffocate them. You can’t let anyone hear.

But you’re scared.

You’re so, so scared.

You’re going to die.

And no one can help you.

“Please… no, that’s an order. I order you not to die, Chin Hae. I… no… I won’t be able to bear it if any of you die so please…”

Don’t die.

As if to mock you, something warm and coppery begins running from your nose once again, dripping into your lap, turning your shirt red. You raise the stump where your hand used to be to your nose and blood smears across it, turning it crimson. For a moment, it looks your hand had truly been amputated.

How you wished that were the case.

I’m sorry, captain.

I think I won’t be able to keep this promise.


	59. Conflict

You stand at the bow of the ship silently, lost in thought as the sea eddies and swirls beneath you.

Your fingers run over the stump that had once used to be your hand, tracing nonsensical patterns and words absentmindedly over the bandage done there. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing to be done.

That’s just the way it is.

Losing your hand was, surprisingly, the least of your concerns over the last few days. There were no fits of rage induced fury as San had used to describe to you, no depressed episodes of tears and screaming, just a silent, persisting emptiness that scares you more than anything else.

Is this what it feels like? Knowing that your days are numbered? Knowing that you’re going to die?

You’re so absorbed in the simple task of winding and rewinding your bandages around your fingers that you don’t hear the creak of the boards, the clicking of boots until he’s standing by your side.

“Hey.” When there’s no response, he tries again. “Chin Hae. Chin Hae?”

“Oh! Yeosang-oppa.” You greet, but there’s an unfocused light to your eyes, you’re still out of it. His heart clenches, but he doesn’t know what to say – because no words are enough. He’s afraid for you, uncertainty dances on the brink of their future, the tip of his tongue. “Have the rest of the crew been informed of what happened?”

Yeosang nods slowly, leaning on the railing next to you. The ship rocks steadily on the waves, tranquil and painfully peaceful, as if the sea beneath you isn’t strewn with corpses, as if the water hasn’t run red with blood. It’s beguiling, really, how the sea swallows all, indiscriminate, and all that’s left is sea, sea and sea, and nothing more.

“What about Captain?” You ask hollowly, but the words feel heavy on your lips. 

“He’s in the sickbay, getting tended to by San.” Fear seizes your chest for a second – what if he tells? – but emptiness relinquishes its hold on you. Your master, by far, is too kind, too pure. He wouldn’t want to burden your captain any more than he already is now, what with Yunho’s antidote and finding Captain Kang. San is like a puppet, manipulating him playing with marionette strings dangling from that fragile little heart of his.

He’ll listen.

Yeosang’s throat tightens. “Hey, Chin Hae, are you really alrig-”

Before he can finish his question, there’s a furious thudding of boots up the forecastle decks stairs, rushed and frantic, and you turn around to frown at the noise when you catch sight of him.

Well, you barely do, because he’s already standing before you before you can blink, and one hand shoots out to grab yours. You don’t even have time to process what’s he’s doing, a near bewildered “Wooyoung…?” slipping from your lips when he tugs what’s left of your hand more closely to his face.

His expression as he studies your bandaged hand is stony, frightening intensity burning like white flames behind his eyes. Even Yeosang seems to pick up on it, because he approaches Wooyoung cautiously, as if nearing a wild animal, and calls his name softly.

“Wooyoung-ah?”

Wooyoung’s jaw clenches, a muscle in his cheek twitches, but his expression doesn’t change. Then suddenly, he whirls around and storms back towards the forecastle stairs, pure wrath practically rolling off his skin. 

Yeosang panics a little, runs forward to intercept Wooyoung with a hand on his arm. “Wooyoung-ah-”

To your shock, the gunner rips his arm ferociously from his friend’s grip, nearly baring his teeth at the navigator. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Then he continues down the stairs, footsteps resounding across the main deck, and he vanishes into the infirmary for a second. Confusion floods you, but then there’s a silent pause, a breath of silence, and then your captain goes tumbling out of the door of the infirmary, crashing to the ground, hard.

“Wha-”

“Wooyoung, stop!” Your master’s voice rings out, cracking with desperation, and then you’re running across the forecastle deck, fingers of one hand gripping the railing tight as you stare in horror at the scene beneath you.

Wooyoung is beating his captain up.

“So she’s lost a hand? You fucking let her lose a hand?” Wooyoung screams in his captain’s face, knuckles white wrapped around his captain’s lapels. The look on his face is wild, unhinged and it scares you, god it terrifies you. He pulls his captain up and slams him back down on the deck, fists pummeling at every inch of his captain that he can reach with violent, furious blows. “You let this happen! You promised me you’d die before you let anything happen to her, you fucking liar!”

Wooyoung is swearing.

Wooyoung is really swearing.

Your captain doesn’t do anything to defend himself. He simply lies there, taking blow after blow, and San is sobbing at the side, screaming for him to do something, for Wooyoung to just stop, but neither pay any attention to him. Mingi peers out of the cabin, clearly disturbed by the commotion and his mouth falls open at the sight before him.

“Captain!”

He and Jongho dash forward to yank the two apart, even from here, you can see blood is dripping from your captain’s nose. Even for all of the younger battlemaster’s monstrous strength, it still takes both the combined efforts of him and Seonghwa to tear Wooyoung away from your captain, and even then he’s still screaming terrible, terrible things you’d never have dreamed Wooyoung would say.

Your captain doesn’t respond, not even when the crew stares on quietly, just as stunned as you are. Mingi shakes his captain’s shoulder desperately, searching his eyes. “Captain? Captain?”

“Let him at me.”Hongjoong says lowly, and your heart drops. “I deserve it.”

Mingi stares at his captain in wide eyed shock, as if he’d just told him to turn the Treasure in to the Royal Navy, instead tells San to lock Wooyoung up in the infirmary until he calms down. He’s dragged away, kicking and screaming, into the sickbay before the door slams shut and a disconcerting silence takes over the deck.

“Back to work! Or do the lot of you have time to dawdle around and stare?” Mingi snaps sharply at the crew and they immediately turn back to their duties, hushed murmurs silently passing from lip to ear. Mingi turns back to his captain, gaze softening with concern, before he spots you on the forecastle deck.

You already know what he wants you to do.

Stepping down the stairs, you approach the two of them, tug quietly on your captain’s hand. To your surprise, he doesn’t resist in the least, letting you drag him to the captain’s cabin. Mingi gives you a concerned look, but you nod at him to reassure him before shutting the door.

Your captain simply stands there, blank, until you force him to sit on Yeosang’s bed, the straw matress creaking slightly under his weight. Still, he doesn’t move and you search the room for a wet rag you can use, knowing that Yeosang keeps an emergency healer’s kit here, and tell your captain to lean forward with his fingers pinched at his nose bridge.

You don’t talk, merely instruct. Instructions are learnt, instructions are either right or wrong, instructions have no in-between. Instructions don’t have emotions.

You like instructions. Emotions, right now? Not so much.

Hongjoong doesn’t say a word as you unfold a cloth you’d found on the table, a thick silence hanging between the two of you. You feel his eyes burning into you when you attempt to uncork the flask with one hand. After five minutes of painful struggling and near unbearable quiet, your captain finally speaks up.

“Give it here.”

His voice is quiet, controlled, and you hand it over, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He opens it and takes the cloth from you, drizzling water over it and lifting it to his nose. It comes away bloody, a sight you’re all too familiar with for different reasons.

“You can go now.” Your captain mutters, his gaze doesn’t even meet yours and you want to throw up your hands (well, hand now) and scream. What did you do wrong this time? Is the hiding of the true reason for the loss of your hand isn’t enough to retain normalcy on this ship?

You just… you just want everything to go back to normal. When it was all of you sailing together on the Treasure, laughing and getting into mischief and overlooking the sea with smiles on your faces, not this noxious, stale bilge water kind of… mess.

Gods, you don’t even know what to do anymore, and it’s driving you insane.

“Look, Hongjoong!” You grab him by the lapels of his collar and yank him down to meet your eyes. He startles a little, but his eyes immediately dart away, refusing to meet your gaze. “What the hell were you doing when Wooyoung did that to you, huh? You just let yourself get beaten up by him and for what? What part of you deserved that? Tell me!”

Hongjoong’s eyes flicker, but still doesn’t lift his head. He doesn’t say a word.

You don’t budge an inch either, unwilling to relinquish him until he gives you a proper answer, but finally, a broken, little chuckle escapes him, and you stare at him like he’s grown a third head. What is even remotely funny about this situation?

You get your answer.

“You finally called me Hongjoong.” He says weakly and you grab at your hair in a mixture of disbelief and rage. Laugh or cry? Crying seems like the favourable option at the moment.

“Hongjoong!” You snap, furious, and your captain only sinks back onto the bed, a defeated smile on his face. He looks at you, but it’s as if he isn’t really seeing, and through all your fury, your heart still breaks for him.

“I failed.” He says simply, like that explains anything. You frown, gesture at him to elaborate, and he shakes his head, dragging rough fingers through his hair. “I promised you – promised Wooyoung – that I’d keep you safe with my own life and here I am, perfectly fine and you...“

Promised Wooyoung? What was that about?

“You lost a hand and I was there and I let it happen.” He continues, burying his head in his hands. “You were trying to help me and–” A groan escapes him and it sounds like a sob and a cry and everything in between. “Wooyoung was right, I’m such a… such a useless captain.”

You don’t know what to tell him. Because he had made a promise to you, but it was something that was out of his control. No man can play god. He couldn’t have possibly known this was going to happen to you.

And you’re sick of him blaming himself for it.

“You always ask the crew to tell you their problems so that you can share their burden, but you don’t practice what you preach, captain.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes widen, but you continue fiercely before he can say another word. “You told me to come to me with my problems and I did–” You ignore the guilt blooming in the pit of your stomach, “but you, captain, you have problems too and you don’t share them with the crew. You try to carry the burden all by yourself but you can’t do it, and you just don’t want to admit it, captain.”

Your captain stares at you for a long moment, mouth opening and closing in shock without making a sound. “I… I don’t-”

“You can’t keep the entire crew safe by yourself, captain. You’re not strong enough to do it alone. No man in the world is.” You poke him in the chest with your good hand and your captain stares down at it. “That’s why we’re here, to do it with you. The crew is a family, and it isn’t just about you taking care of us because you’re the captain. It’s all of us,” You gesture at the door of his cabin, where the rest of the crew are working right outside, “taking care of each other, watching out for each other’s backs. Losing this hand? I chose it, because I’d rather lose a limb than lose you, our captain.”

The next few seconds stretch into a minute. Hongjoong doesn’t move, fixated on your hand. Then he inhales once, breathes out, meets your eyes. “Oh.” There’s something sparkling in his eyes, they look like tears. “Oh.” He repeats again, and the tears spill over, effectively sending you into a near panic. Was that the wrong thing to say?

“It’s not just me. I’m not alone.” Hongjoong manages to say through sniffles, there’s a tone of wonderment in his voice, like he’s just discovered the truth and what’s left of your heart tosses itself out of the porthole and into the sea. “I have… I have all of you.”

“Yes.” You say as firmly as possible, because you need him to know this. 

“And you…” The tears are flowing freely now. “You wanted to save me. It’s okay... if it’s not me… saving you. I was worth it.”

“Yes.” 

Then he’s throwing his arms around you, and you nearly stumble back a step. Something dampens your sleeve, but you don’t care, pulling him closer protectively. He seems lighter now, more free. “Thank you, Chin Hae.”

No, thank you for everything you’ve done, you think as he sobs tears of relief into your shoulder. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.


	60. Confession

“You shouldn’t have done that, Wooyoung-ah.”

At the sound of your voice, the head gunner turns away, completely silent, dark anger boiling beneath his skin. He’s clearly not in the mood to have a talking to now. But you have no fear, not anymore, anyway, and seat yourself next to him on the bed. Your bed, you realise.

Wooyoung’s mouth is pressed in a tight line, edges of his lips curling white in something crossed between a frown and a sneer. There’s a big bruise on his cheek, presumably put there by Jongho again, and he’s looking away very determinedly, set on not meeting your eye.

Unfortunately for him, your stubbornness more than rivals his own, and you’re not about to let him off the hook so easily. He punched his captain, for god’s sake. That’s not typical Wooyoung behavior. “We can sit here all day, you know? I have all the time in the world.”

You really don’t (haha brain, very funny joke), but fingers scratch irritably over the cover of your pillow, Wooyoung chancing a quick glance at you before his eyes have flitted elsewhere. The tension is so thick it’s practically suffocating the two of you alive, but you’re not about to give in anytime soon.

You wait.

Waiting doesn’t take long. Wooyoung’s personality loves comfortable silences or noise. Awkward silence? Not so much. He opens his mouth once, hesitates, closes it, and opens it again with a swallow.

“How… how’s your hand?” He’s still not looking at you.

“This?” You raise the empty stump, the phantom itch still throbs strangely. You’re strangely calm for someone who’s just lost their hand, but knowing death is right on its tail really puts things into perspective. “I’m fine. I was injured by Gunho during the battle and, well, you know the rest.” you shrug, turn away yourself. He really doesn’t, but it’s easier not to go into the specifics.

Wooyoung flinches a little, but you see it. Then an angry growl leaves his chest, fingers digging so hard into your pillow they turn white. “I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance.”

“You couldn’t have known what he was going to do.” You tell him gently, glance out of the porthole and watch the sky outside slowly turn from inky black to midnight blue. Silence lingers between the two of you for a moment before Wooyoung finally puffs out a breath, licks his dry lips.

“How’s Captain?”

Your captain snorts a little as you dab water at his nose. “If Wooyoung had been serious about beating me up, I’d have a lot more than a broken nose.”

“Well,” you shrug, bringing your knees up to your chest, “you nearly broke his nose, gave him five different bruises, very big ones, I may add, and almost gave Master a heart attack.” Wooyoung makes a satisfied noise, patting his raw knuckles fondly.

“He deserved that much, at the very least.” He mumbles, drags a hand across his face, but he looks relieved. “Five bruises was letting him off too easy.” You glance at him for a second, turn back to the world outside, the sky and sea separating as the first hints of day draw a line of light across the horizon. Beyond the heavy wooden door of the sickbay, orders are called, the thud of boots resounding across the deck as the crew rush to carry out said orders.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You find yourself saying, though he hasn’t asked. His eyes find yours and more words start to spill out of your mouth unchecked. “I might have lost a hand, but at least I’m not dead, am I?”

The second you say that, you feel like you’ve somehow slapped both Wooyoung and yourself in the face, metaphorically, of course. At least I’m not dead, your heart gives a little self deprecating chuckle, and you resist the urge to cut off that loose tongue of yours for its stupidity.

Great job, you.

“Get ready to storm the island! I want every one of us to find that Captain Kang and drag him to the Treasure by the knees! Do you understand me?” You hear Mingi shout from behind the door of the sickbay and you make to rise to your feet, “we should go check out what they’re up to-”

But you’re stopped by a familiar hand. “Wait.”

Frowning, you turn back, arch an eyebrow. “Why?” You ask, a little confused. Wooyoung glances up at you with deep green eyes, soft and serious with emotion, and one by one, his fingers lace around yours, squeezing gently. Your heart skips, tumbles a beat, but you keep your eyes on his face. “Wooyoung?”

“Just listen to me for a moment.” He says, voice pleading and for some reason, it makes you nervous, like you’re not ready for whatever emotionally weighted words he’s about to unload on you. “I just need to say something.”

The two of you probably really should get going, but something about the way he’s talking makes you pause, nod for him to go on. “When I was on that island… and we realised that it was a trap for the Treasure…” a shudder runs down his spine, the pad of his thumbs tracing small circles on the inside of your wrist, “I can’t begin to say just how damn terrified I was. And while I was running back to the ship, all I could think about was just how stupid I realised I had been.”

“You couldn’t have known it was going to be a trap, Wooyoung.” You remind him firmly, intent on stopping him from blaming himself just like his captain did, gods were all of them going to be like this? “No one knew, not even Captain, and we all came out fine, so there’s no harm done-”

“That’s not what I meant.” Wooyoung interrupts. The chains rattle as his hand falls to his side, as heavy as his words. “What I meant was… pushing you away, thinking that by distancing myself, I was keeping you safe, but in reality I was just a coward who didn’t have the balls to face my feelings.”

What?

“When I was running back to the Treasure, one thought kept replaying in my mind.” He bites on his lower lip, an agonized look crossing his eyes as he stares at you so longingly, so painfully. “What if the last thing you remembered of me was leaving you alone on that mast and removing myself from your life without knowing how I really felt? What if…” he chokes, head bowed, “what if the last thing you had thought of me was that I hated you, and you died without knowing just how untrue that was?”

You don’t even know what you’re hearing right now. The words, you hear them, but you don’t really hear them. Wooyoung doesn’t hate you, that… that’s amazing to know, but why do you feel like that isn’t the end of it quite yet?

“Chin Hae.” He looks into your eyes, so piercingly you couldn’t look away even if you tried. “I’m scared of women. I’m terrified of them. I have scars all over my body, and I can’t forget the way they touched me, how I was forced to serve them until Captain rescued me. After I left that life behind, I played women like toys because I wanted to convince myself that I was no longer the victim, no longer the powerless.” He takes a deep breath, searches you with a defeated smile. “But it seems like I was wrong, and I find myself powerless in front of a woman once again.”

Your thoughts swirl like the raging waves, a jumble of noises and words and so much emotions. “Wooyoung, what-”

“I love you, Chin Hae.”

“Wait, give me a moment-” You try to collect yourself, but Wooyoung smiles gently, squeezing your hand lightly again and that affectionate, familiar gesture grounds you like a lifeboat in the middle of a storm. 

Gentle eyes meet yours.

“You don’t need to love me back.” He tells you, smiling a little wistfully. There’s peace in that lopsided grin, as if a massive weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders, as if he hasn’t just dropped the emotional equivalent of his 42 pound cannon right into your arms. “I just wanted you to know. You… you’re really precious to me, Chin Hae.”

You try to find words, and only one comes to mind. “Buh…” You’re immediately disgusted by your own apparent inability to form complete sentences. What is your brain made of, clay?

…probably.

At your flustered state, Wooyoung breaks into peals of laughter that resemble an entire pod of happy dolphins, slapping his thigh in amusement. Fumbling about, you throw your headrest at him, only making him laugh harder when it bounces off the wall next to head. “Wooyoung!”

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, not sounding sorry at all. You glare at him, not amused, but squeeze his hand back, like you always have.

“I don’t know how I feel yet.” You tell him honestly, linking your fingers together. Wooyoung nods earnestly, purple hair falling into his eyes. “You… you might only be saying this because you almost lost me, so I want you to think about what you feel again, after all of this has calmed down… before you tell me this again.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “I know what I feel, but if it makes you feel more assured, alright then. I’m fine with waiting.” 

A breath of relief escapes you, and you nod seriously, but before you can say anymore, there’s a knock on the door, and it swings open to reveal-

“Captain.” Wooyoung rises to greet his captain a little awkwardly, scratching his head. The corner of Hongjoong’s lips lift in a slight, weary smile at the sight of the two of you seated on the bed, pausing slightly at the door.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all.” You wave your captain over and Hongjoong takes a step, but his toe dances lightly at the door right before it crosses into the room, and stops to squint a little at his head gunner.

“You’re not going to throw another punch at me the second I step into this room, right?”

Wooyoung lets out a humored chuckle. “God, no, even if I wanted to.” The ice broken, he bumps shoulders with his captain and Hongjoong finally cracks a smile, although it seems a little… off, somehow. “Though I still think it would have been an improvement to your looks if I’d broken a few things on your face.”

Your captain gives a good-natured snort for someone who’d just been beaten up less than half a day ago. “Well, it’s good to have you on the same side again. I was wondering if I could borrow your gun and your eye in,” he glances out of the door onto the deck with a grim smile, “maybe about a few minutes or so.” 

Something about the way he says that has something sinking in your chest.

“Just my gun and eye?” Wooyoung tries to lighten the tension by joking with a raised eyebrow, similarly on edge at the tone of his captain’s voice, his fingers shifting towards the long flintlock at his hip as he gestures at himself. “You know you have to get me too, right? We’re kind of a package deal.”

“I might throw in a bonus if you come along.” Hongjoong shrugs, still gazing out of the door. The angle the two of you are at, you can’t quite see what’s happening on deck, but the shouting from outside is loud enough to reach your ears and you’re immediately tensed.

“Appreciative enough to spare me bilge bailing duty for a week for rearranging your face?”

“Maybe. If you ask nicely. Actually, no.” Hongjoong replies, turning to look at the two of you with a smile that’s a little too strained for your liking. “Well, someone has just approached the ship from the island, and-”

“Captain Kang says he wants to talk.”


	61. A Father and Two Sons

"I just want to talk." Mingi grumbles under his breath as the three of you approach the starboard side of the ship, clearly not the least bit convinced by what Captain Kang has just said. "That's what they all say. 'Oh, I just want to talk! I totally don't want to put a bullet through your head... or poison you... or feed you worms...' Only an idiot would let him come up on board after all that he's done to us-"

"Would you call me an idiot, then?" Hongjoong smiles mildly from behind him and Mingi nearly jumps off the ship in shock, whirling around surprised only to see the three of you standing there, eyes flickering nervously between Wooyoung and his captain before his gaze settles on the head gunner. "Uhhh-"

Wooyoung cracks a tiny grin, not fully there but it's something, scuffs the toe of his boot on the deck. "I know, I know. I'm sorry for being an idiot." At Wooyoung's easy demeanor, Mingi's shoulders sag before he reaches over to punch his friend in the arm, hard.

"Ow!" Wooyoung yelps, cradling his arm to his chest dramatically, nursing the sore spot where Mingi hit him. You can see a bruise forming there already. "What was that for?" His voice rises into a whine high pitched from pain.

Mingi's eyes narrow sharply. "That's for beating up Captain." At his words, Hongjoong moves to hide his laughter behind his hand, but the only sound that escapes his mouth is a yelp as Mingi punches his captain hard in the shoulder too.

"Ow!" He complains, mimicking Wooyoung as he rubs his shoulder ruefully. "What did I do? I try to be a good captain and end up getting beat up three times in one day? I don't deserve this. Chin Hae, it hurts-" You stifle a polite snort.

"And that's for being beat up by Wooyoung, you dummy." Mingi talks over his captain, rolling his eyes before they find yours, and then he's raising his hand and you find yourself flinching back, because oh my god is he going to punch you as well-

"Thank you for looking after these two idiots for me." Mingi says softly, one large hand resting gently on your head and you stare up at him with wide eyes, there's a small curve at the side of his mouth and wow, because he's smiling at you.

"You're welcome." You reply brightly, ignoring Hongjoong's dismayed 'I am the captain, you can't just call me an idiot!' and Wooyoung's indignant cry of 'captain is the only idiot on this ship!'. Then suddenly, Mingi frowns and backpedals to an earlier part of the conversation as his hand falls back to his side. "Wait, wait, wait, Captain, did I hear you right earlier? Did you really just say you want to allow Captain Kang onto the ship again? After all he's done to us?"

There's a pregnant pause for a moment.

"Oh, right." Hongjoong pauses, scratches at his chin. Mingi shoots him an incredulous stare at him. "Maybe I am an idiot after all."

"You idiot!" Mingi exclaims, grabbing his captain by the ear and you wince sympathetically as Mingi raps his knuckles across Hongjoong's forehead like he's trying to crack a very large egg. "Did Wooyoung beat the very last dregs of your sanity out of you along with your common sense?"

"Just a second here, it's not my fault if Captain's nuts, he's always been and it's not my doing-" Wooyoung hurriedly holds up both hands and Hongjoong hollers at the unintended bashing to both his pride and forehead before wriggling out of his quartermaster's grasp. Sucking in a deep breath, he stares indignantly at the three of you, one hand adjusting his eyepatch and the other desperately flattening his ruffled hair.

"I am the captain!" Is all he manages.

The three of you burst into a fit of laughter, he looks absolutely frazzled. But your laughter is soon stifled when Seonghwa moves over to the starboard to speak to Hongjoong.

"Captain Kang says he insists on speaking to you, Captain... and that he'll hand over the antidote to Yunho's poison if you allow him to bring Gunho's body back with him, and to speak to Yeosang for a few minutes." He jerks his thumb at the gangplank waiting to be lowered at the port side of the ship, where you know Captain Kang and the remainder of his men are gathered. "We're waiting on your orders."

You swallow the saliva that seems to have built up in your throat, nerves weighting heavily on you. After all these years, why would Kang Yongsun want to see the child that he left behind and abandoned for dead so long ago? Some sort of sadistic satisfaction of seeing how much his son has suffered over the years at the hands of the bloodthirsty pirates? Or something else?

At that, Hongjoong chews his lower lip thoughtfully, brow knitted as he weighs the pros and cons with care. On one hand, he doesn't ever want to see that filthy man's face ever again, let alone have to let Yeosang lay eyes on the father that gave him up so many years ago, and yet... and yet... the cure to Yunho's illness is right there, nearly in their grasp. After so much fighting and battling, they can finally save Yunho... but why does this seem too easy? Throat dry, he licks his lips, opens his mouth to speak without really knowing his answer.

"I-"

But before he can say anything, someone else interrupts him.

"Let him come aboard." You spin around, eyes widening with surprise to see Yeosang standing at the foot of the stairs of the quarterdeck, gazing quietly, even serenely at the gangplank, where the father who abandoned him awaits. "Let him come aboard." He repeats, a little louder this time, turning to face the five of you with a brave smile, fingers twisting around the hem of his shirt. "So that we can save Yunho and finally end all of this once and for all."

Your heart breaks. "Oh, Yeosang..."

Wooyoung's mouth pulls downwards into a frown, reaching out to tug on Yeosang's sleeve gently. "Hey. I don't want you to feel obliged to have to meet that bastard just so we can save Yunho, alright? I could always just shoot his head from here, and we could-" You smack his arm for talking about Yeosang's father like that in front of his own child. Yeosang might have been abandoned by his father, but the soft hearted navigator is far too gentle for his own good.

Yeosang shakes his head, letting out a soft breath. "It's alright. It's time for me to face my own demons too, after all, like what Seonghwa has done. I have questions of my own that I'd like to ask him too, things that I wasn't brave enough to ask back then. Why did you hate me so, father? What did I do to deserve your ire?" He trails off, lost in thought.

Hongjoong looks conflicted for a moment, before he sighs and nods. "In the end, it's your choice, Yeosang." Hongjoong says quietly, resting a hand on Yeosang's shoulder. The navigator looks up at him with troubled eyes. "But remember, no matter what you choose," his captain squeezes him lightly, before moving off to give the orders to lower the gangplank, "that you will always have a family in us."

Yeosang stands there silent for a second, stock still, you stare at him with eyes wide with concern, but then just as you're about to approach him, ask him if he's alright, he simply smiles lightly and shakes his head, following behind his captain's retreating back to meet his father. "I know that already, idiot captain."

"I heard that!"

"Chin Hae, do you want to hear what happens or go to the sickbay with San-" Seonghwa begins, but the second you hear your master's name, you wave your hand and its accompanying stump with a smile. You're really not ready to face your master again, especially after the awful things you'd said to him. "I'll go see what's going on. Got to find some way to satisfy this curiosity, after all."

The cook gives you a kind nod and guides you to the port side, where they're already lowering the gangplank, Wooyoung loading and priming his musket behind the two of you. Mingi and Jongho are already standing there, flanking the gangplank, the former brandishing his fearsome battle axe and the latter his club.

"Gangplank lowered!" One of the crewmen call and Jongho's fingers tighten on the handle tersely. You feel something cold run down your spine as the creaking of wood reaches your ears, and the footsteps draw ever closer... And finally, Captain Kang steps on board the Treasure.

"The antidote." Mingi demands instantly, and Captain Kang eyes him coldly.

"And lose the only bargaining chip keeping me and my men alive? Perish the thought. I shall not hand it over till I have seen and spoken to my son." He says stonily and Wooyoung bristles with anger, "why, you-"

"Shh." You say, laying your hand gently on Wooyoung's arm, he calms a little, but his lips are still tightly pressed together and his fingers play with the trigger of his gun. Hongjoong steps forward, expression neutral.

"I understand your point, but my battlemaster is dying, I would have you hand over the antidote immediately. I promise upon my honor that no harm will come to you or your crew."

"And what worth is the honor of a pirate?" One of Royal Navy officers spits, his hand brandishing his saber. Mingi growls, a noise deep in his throat as he squares up the shorter man, but the officer is broad shoulders and the deadly glint in his eyes show that he would be no pushover in battle either.

The two men are trapped in a battle of wills for a long second before another officer puts a hand on his comrades' shoulder, pulling him back with a forced grin on his face. "Now, now, Joohoney, this isn't really how you speak to someone you're trying to negotiate with! What would Lieutenant Shownu say?"

"Shut up, Minhyuk." 'Joohoney' snarls, fist clenching so tightly around the handle of his sabre that his knuckles go white. He's trembling with emotion, rage, not fear, you realise. "These damn pirates are the scourge of the seas, they're the reason why so many of our comrades are dead, and-"

"Enough!" Commander Kang snaps and 'Joohoney' reluctantly falls silent. "If you cannot keep your tongue still, I will carve it out for you. Understood?" His voice allows no room for argument in the least.

"Yes, commander." He submits grudgingly, but that doesn't stop him from glaring at every single one of you as if he wishes he could slit your throats this very second. But his words leave you reeling on the inside... how can these terrible, corrupted, bloodthirsty Royal Navy officers possibly think that your crewmates are the scum after all they've done?

But before you can retort, your captain is already speaking.

"I swear upon the sea goddess," Hongjoong says, and you hear a sharp intake of breath from both Royal Navy officers and your crewmates alike, "that under no circumstance will any member of my crew harm any member of your crew unless first blood is drawn."

"Captain! Swearing on the sea goddess, are you crazy?" Mingi hisses out of the corner of his mouth, but his captain does not reply, merely holding gazes with the Royal Navy commander. Eventually, Commander Kang lets his shoulders relax slightly, and pulls out a small vial filled with clear liquid, placing it in your captain's outstretched palm. Without breaking eye contact, Hongjoong passes it to Seonghwa, who dashes off the sickbay with it. Mingi scowls, hefting his battle axe threateningly. "Any tricks, Commander..."

"Bring me Gunho's body." Commander Kang demands and Hongjoong nods to another two crew members, who carry out a body wrapped with a clean linen sheet, setting it before the commander. Quietly, Commander Kang kneels before the corpse, tugging the sheet down with such gentle hands one would scarcely believe him to have ever held a sword, until Gunho's face is revealed to them once more, eyes still wide open staring at the sun he had died gazing upon.

For a second, such intense emotion flickers across Commander Kang's face you briefly wonder if you had imagined it, but then he composes himself and slides Gunho's eyes closed gently, pressing a soft kiss to his bloodied forehead.

"Rest in peace, my son."

Chaos erupts on deck.

"What?" Wooyoung gapes, too stunned to be angry and you find yourself mirroring his expression, mouth falling open in shock. My son? Does Yeosang have two illegitimate brothers who were gladiators in Vena Cruz that he didn't know of? But wait, Yunho once mentioned that his parents had sold him and his brother off, so how could Commander Kang possibly be Gunho's father?

Amidst the chaos, Commander Kang rises and gestures for his crew to take the body away, but Jongho stops him by standing stubbornly between the body and the commander. "You dare call a man of another's blood your son in front of the flesh and blood you abandoned?" He asks, deadly quiet.

Commander Kang meets his eyes coolly, though there is a small hint of guilt that flickers in his eyes when he glances over at Yeosang, wiping tears quietly at the side. Then he sighs, exhales a long breath, and looks directly at his son. "I suppose this is time to explain everything, Yeosang." 

Yeosang's red rimmed eyes snap up in shock as his father addresses him by name, hands falling limp to the sides while his lips part slightly to say, "Father...?" Kang Yongsun manages a small, resigned curve of the lips that is barely there at all, but nods, gesturing at the dead body of Jeong Gunho.

"Gunho isn't your brother... I just... adopted him, in a way." Commander Kang says very softly. Then he pauses, shakes his head. "Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. All of my life, I've never listened to you, Yeosang. What do you want to know?"

"Eh?" Yeosang fumbles, clearly unused to being treated this way by his father in all his memories.

"I... I..." "He wants to know why you hate him." Wooyoung says loudly, glaring at the Commander before you smack his arm with a roll of the eyes. "What?"

"Well... where do I start?" Kang Yongsun murmurs to himself, although all of you hear him. You feel your breath catching in your throat as your anticipation only grows, waiting for his next words to come...

"The easiest explanation would be that... you killed your mother."


	62. My Father

Yeosang stumbles. 

No, he doesn’t trip over his own feet, nor does he fall over something on the deck. His knees simply buckle under the weight of his father’s word, as if they’ve lost all ability to keep him upright, and he actually stumbles, nearly falling to the deck before Wooyoung catches him by the arm and hauls him upright, concern written all over his face. 

“What?” 

Hongjoong whirls on Kang Yongsun, eyes going dark. “You have exactly five seconds to get off my ship before I open fire on the lot of you scum.”

Something sharp, painful tugs at your chest, and you tug on your captain’s sleeve lightly, his intensity burns. “Captain… you swore not to…”

He bites back a hiss, eyes still never leaving Captain Kang’s face, true to his reputation as an exceptional commander he does not seem to be fazed the slightest by your captain’s threat. Instead, he doesn’t even look at him, eyes fixed only on his son.

“But…” Yeosang stutters, face as white as a paper sheet and mouth working soundlessly as he searches him mind for words. “But… But didn’t Mother run away from home after giving birth to me? Didn’t she-”

“We told you that… but at that time… the family believed that you were the one who caused your mother’s death… after all, she died giving birth to you, and that birthmark under your eye…” Kang Yongsun pauses, voice turning grim. “Well, people believe that birthmarks are signs that you’ve been marked by Fate… that you’re a curse to the family you’re born to.”

Yeosang swallows, fingers tentatively reaching up to touch the dark blemish resting on his cheekbone. His whole life, he’s known what his birthmark means, knows that he should be grateful that he’s even alive when some other members of the aristocratic class would rather kill the child at birth rather than have the public finding out about them having a cursed, blemished child…

“I loved your mother…” Kang Yongsun says softly and Yeosang is broken out of his reverie as he stares at his father, not once in his life has he seen his father so openly and emotionally vulnerable. “I loved her more than anything else in the world, Yeosang. Her health was always bad since the two of us were young, but I insisted on marrying her… and after we got married, she insisted on having a child even though the physicians told her not to…”

Something cracks in Yeosang’s chest. His father, the love was genuine, the love for his mother so real he can feel it himself. For the woman that has never been present his entire life, for the woman who gave birth to him, for the woman who he’s never met.

“Father…” Yeosang begins to say but Commander Kang puts up a hand, some sort of sad smile twitching on his lips. “I will not lie, I believed that you were the reason I lost her. The second you were born, I never even got to hold you in my arms, instead I was holding my wife and your mother as I watched the life leave her eyes… and she asked me, ‘Is the baby alright?’ with her last breath… and I hated you for that, Yeosang.”

“That wasn’t even his fault-” Wooyoung pipes up angrily, stepping forward but you catch his arm and drag him back much to his protest, your eyes are still fixed on the Commander, the pain of his loss shining so strongly in his gaze that it takes your breath away. “Let him finish.” You murmur softly, and while Wooyoung sighs unwillingly he eventually falls silent, still staring at Kang Yongsun with every malicious intent he can muster.

Yeosang, on the other hand, doesn’t move an inch, eyes swimming with indescribable emotion - painful, guilty, lost - because what is he supposed to be feeling? His whole life, he’s known that his father hated him, and while he might have never thought much about the reason why, he’s always assumed that it had been his father’s responsibility; that he had simply seen something in Yeosang he didn’t like. But to find out that he was the one who had been chasing after his father’s back when the entire time, his very birth had been what drove a wedge between them in the first place.

“It wasn’t your fault that your mother died, I know.” Commander Kang says softly, and Yeosang seems like he finds it difficult to lift his head, he can’t meet his father in the eye properly. “But at the time, all I could see was what I had lost. While you might not have chosen to be marked by the Fates, even though I did see you as my flesh and blood to be loved, every time I looked at you, all I could see was the cause of all my pain and suffering.”

Yeosang’s head hangs, tears slipping down his cheeks as he grips the hem of shirt very tightly. “I’m sorry, Father.” He manages and Commander Kang merely shakes his head, eyes softening a fraction as he looks at him. “If you have anything to be sorry for, Yeosang, I have a lot more in comparison.”

Yeosang’s eyes widen, and one of his hands reaches behind him, you take it instinctively and squeeze lightly, so he knows you’re there. The Commander takes a deep breath, looks at the sky for a moment, and continues, a little more slowly this time. “Even if you did cause your mother’s death, even if I had lost her, I had no right to take it out on you.”

“But then if you knew…” Yeosang’s voice cracks, fingers tightening around your hand almost painfully with the weight of his emotions, “then why did you give me up to captain? Didn’t you hate me? Isn’t that why you tried to get rid of me?” At that, Commander Kang’s eyes darken slightly, his brows furrowing.

“For that too… I would like to apologise… while I know nothing can ever make you forgive me for selling you to the pirates,” his eyes meet your captain’s for a split second and Hongjoong nearly growls, “I still stand by what I did. As a captain of a ship, all the members of the crew are my family as much as you were, Yeosang.” You see the two officers who had a little outburst earlier nodding unconsciously along to their captain’s words.

“And if it meant saving my crew, I would have given you up every single time no matter how many times I was faced with the choice.” Kang Yongsun says, it’s so brutally honest it nearly cuts you to the core. And yet, even if some part of you protests that he should have found some way, any way to have saved Yeosang, you too know that the Commander had been faced with no other choice. Kang Yongsun’s eyes meet your captain’s. “I’m sure your captain would understand what I mean.”

“You should have found some way to save him.” Hongjoong snaps suddenly, hand fisting around th hilt of his cutlass so tight his knuckles are nearly bloodless. You’re mildly startled at the volume of his voice, wondering why on earth he seems so emotional about this, it’s not like your captain to be like this. You put your stump gently on his shoulder, hoping that he’ll calm down but he doesn’t. “You should have done something, anything, to save him from me. That’s what a father is supposed to do.”

Commander Kang gives him a sharp glance. “I had no other choice in that situation. The only two options were to give something up of value or have the lives of all my crew lost. The thing of highest value at the moment was Yeosang, and it was the only thing I could think of to save the lives of the rest of my men.” Then his eyes darken. “If I were to force you to give up the woman we’ve been commanded to search for or have the rest of your crew hung, what would your answer be then? Which would you choose to give up?”

You startle at having been so suddenly addressed, but find your eyes drawn towards your captain anyway, anticipating his answer with bated breath. Hongjoong opens his mouth, fully intending to reply sharply, but then he pauses, eyes meeting yours hesitantly.

Would he?

“But then why would you chase the Treasure down once again?” Yeosang asks suddenly and you turn away, distracted, not noticing the pained look on your captain’s face as he stares at you. Commander Kang sighs, casts a glance behind him at where Gunho’s body lies and gives a small, unreadable smile, filled with so much emotion you can’t even begin to describe it. “I wanted to make amends, Yeosang. I thought that if the Pirate King was truly as terrifying as the stories described him to be, and yet he’d still accepted you in return for the lives of my crew, you must have been very valuable to him… and that he would most definitely keep you alive. If I found you, and you were still alive… I wanted to save you and bring you back. I wanted to start things anew, Yeosang.”

Your eyes fly wide open. Start anew? Start anew with Yeosang, as father and son?

“Start things anew?” Yeosang echos your thoughts blankly, as if he can’t quite believe that his father would ever say such a thing. As far fetched as his words sound, nothing raises the alarm that he’s lying, or doesn’t mean what he says. Every word is genuine, from the heart, determined. He genuinely does want to make amends. “You mean… be together? Like father and son? Like… family?”

“Yes.” Commander Kang nods, but now there’s a gentle smile tugging ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth. “Be together, just the two of us, like father and son. If you’ll allow me to.”

Hongjoong’s expression is stony, unreadable, something dark brewing in his eyes as he watches the two of them, Yeosang’s eyes slowly well at with tears at the thought. But then Yeosang pauses, turns back to his captain, and reaches over to tug at Hongjoong’s hand, pulling him forward to stand face to face with the Commander.

“He’s taken care of me.” Yeosang tells his father softly and Commander Kang raises an eyebrow as he stares down at the younger captain with something approaching surprise. “He took care of me like I was his own flesh and blood brother, and he’s saved me more times than I can count. If you’re to be my father again,” Yeosang takes a deep breath and looks at his captain so warmly that Hongjoong’s head dips to avoid his gaze, “then I cannot have you threatening the lives of the family I made on this ship.”

“The famed, notorious Pirate King took care of you?” Commander Kang says with a hint of astonishment and your captain meets his eyes defiantly, as if challenging him to deny the fact. But to his complete surprise and shock, the Commander simply takes a step back and bows - much to the horror of the officers behind him - before he speaks once again. “I thank you for that, Pirate King.”

“I don’t want your thanks.” Hongjoong says darkly, nearly spits at Yeosang’s father, and the Commander simply nods before straightening up. Your captain turns to Yeosang, concern written all over his face as he takes Yeosang’s hands in his. “Yeosang, what is it you want to do? If… If you would want to return with… that man…” his expression sours at the word, but he continues speaking, “I will not stop you. It is your choice to make.”

Yeosang pauses for a moment, eyes sweeping across the deck as he looks at the face of every crew member, imagining saying goodbye to each of them. His gaze rests on you and you give him a slight smile, as long as he’s happy, you’ll support any choice he makes, even though you’re reluctant to see him go. 

But then Yeosang shakes his head. Commander Kang and your captain both wear surprised expressions, although while Commander Kang’s melts into understanding, your captain’s darkens into something unfathomable. “This is my family. I promised to live and die with them, and so I will. I’m afraid you’ll have to go on without me, father, at least until the day Captain decides to retire.” He gestures at the crew mates around him and Commander Kang smiles a bit brighter this time, a little more nostalgic. “You’re really my son… I understand.” He sighs, and steps forward to place one hand on Yeosang’s shoulder, and this time Yeosang meets his gaze with clear eyes, no longer clouded by doubt or pain. “The day your captain retires… Don’t forget, that you will always have a home in me on Nassau.”

The moment is so intimate that the rest of the crew turn their faces away, as do the officers behind the Commander. You find yourself looking away as well at the expanse of sea behind you, watching the sea barely shift from ink to deep blue, the sun must be rising soon.

“I know.” Yeosang says, happily and so radiant you can barely look at him, his eyes are fixed on his father’s back but not chasing after it any longer. Commander Kang steps back, before he turns and bows one last time to your captain, who still refuses to look at him. 

“I thank you as well, Pirate King. If you were to ever change your mind about the deal, come to Nassau. I promise that I’ll see all of your men cleared of all charges.” He says, but your captain simply nods expressionlessly, before gesturing to the gangplank carelessly with one hand. 

“Get off my ship.”

“Let’s go.” Commander Kang orders his men and they spring to move immediately, marching down the gangplank and vanishing into the vegetation of the island, Commander Kang’s eyes meet his son’s one last time and Yeosang waves in farewell. Then they’re gone from sight, the only imprints left of their presence the footsteps left in the beach sand and the smell of smoke in the air.

There’s a long silence.

“So…” Yeosang is the first to break it, before he glances up at his captain. “That’s that.”

“That’s it.” His captain echoes blankly, not really looking at Yeosang but at where the Commander had been standing, hands still clenched tight, expression unreadable. Worried, you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but before you can, your master bursts out of the infirmary with a grin large enough to split his face in half.

“Yunho’s fever has broken!”

And when the deck erupts in massive cheers and squabbles as they quarrel over who is going to get to visit the lovable battlemaster first, you think that the worst might finally be behind you.

>>>

It’s late at night when you step over the unconscious forms of your crewmates sprawled across the deck. Some are still clutching on to tankards of brandy in their sleep, Seonghwa had decided that to celebrate Yunho’s recovery and Yeosang’s reunion with his father, they would break open a keg of some of the most expensive alcohol they had on board. And as usual, they have gotten drunk, and as usual, they have been up to their antics, but, not as usual, you find yourself afraid to head back to your bed in the infirmary even after most of the crew have passed out drunk, knowing your master would be there…

You find yourself ascending the stairs to the quarterdeck, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders, meaning to find some comfort in the solitude. Instead, you find your captain leaning against the railing, a bottle of red wine in hand, looking out at the expanse of sea before you, barely lit by the slightest hint of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds in the night sky. He’s not drunk, at least you don’t think so, so you step up next to him and rest your forearms on the railing, looking out across the sea like he is.

“Not in the mood for celebration, captain?”

“So it was me.” Your captain murmurs quietly under his breath and you turn to look at him in surprise, usually he’d greet you or acknowledge your presence directly, you hope it’s because he’s comfortable enough around you to speak his mind freely. “In a way, when I thought I saved Yeosang…” he barks out a laugh, broken and exhausted and your heart clenches painfully for him, “I was the thing that separated him and his father.”

You turn to look at your captain more carefully. His expression is blank, like white canvas, but there’s something painfully lonely in his eyes, as if no one can understand what he’s going through. You’re suddenly seized by an overwhelming compulsion to take that off his face, to replace the darkness in his eyes with the fire you love so much. “You also saved him, though.” You say quietly, and Hongjoong takes another swig of the wine, still watching the sea. “The Commander might not have realised his mistake if you hadn’t taken Yeosang from him. In the end, things have worked out, haven’t they?”

Your captain smiles, a bitter, melancholy smile that has your heart aching as he takes another swig, as if it can dull the pain in his eyes. “I thought I had put my own father behind me.” He suddenly says, and you start, remembering the expression he had worn when the Commander had told Yeosang that he wanted to start things afresh. “But after today, a part of me just…” His words trail off, filled with such bitter longing you know exactly what he wants to say even though he doesn’t.

Just wishes that could have been my father instead.

“I hate it. I don’t want to think about him anymore, and yet…” he tosses the bottle into the ocean and takes a deep painful breath, fingers tight around the railing, “and yet I wonder… if there was a reason my father hated me as well? If there was something, anything that could explain why… why my father would do this to me?” His fingers trace the stitching of his eyepatch before they fall back to the side, limp.

You don’t know what to say, silent and wondering yourself. So you simply stretch out your arm and he gently wraps his fingers around what’s left of your left wrist silently, before he turns back to watch the sea, a lonely, silent melody playing in your ears as you watch him; as if the sirens are calling to you once again.

His smile is sad.

“If only Yeosang’s father had been an easier man to hate.”


	63. A New Hand

The Treasure stops at Tortuga.

After the Cayman Islands, your captain has ordered the crew to set sail for Tortuga once more, sailing up the Windward passage between Santiago De Cuba and Hispaniola, citing the need to replenish supplies at the pirate town and get repairs on the Treasure done. And sailing is uneventful… for most part. It seems like the skies have finally cleared now, soft blue both in the sky above and the sea beneath, and you’re enjoying the feeling of the sea breeze on your cheeks as you lie back on the forecastle deck with the morning sun gently warming your skin. 

It’s been a chaotic past few days, with constant worries taking a toll on your mind and the threat of Commander Kang taking you back to the Royal Navy on your mind. Unfortunately, you realise that you never quite got the chance to ask him why the Royal Navy wanted you, but there was nothing you could do about it now. On the bright side, though, your master had announced to the crew that the poison had successfully been treated with the antidote that Commander Kang had provided, and with sufficient food, water and rest, the young battlemaster would make a full recovery over time. He was fine, the ship would be alright, Commander Kang would no longer hunt you down, and everyone was happy.

“Why do you look upset?”

Well, perhaps not everyone.

You don’t bother opening your eyes, recognising that voice with your ears alone. A small, meaningless smile quirks up one corner of your lips, more for his benefit than any real happiness, you’ve had a lot to think about, but neither do you really want to face them at all. Instead, you ask, “Are we there yet?”

“Captain says we should be reaching any time soon now.” Jongho replies, the younger battlemaster taking a seat next to you on the deck, you can hear the planks creaking under his weight. Hongjoong had spoken about stopping by a small village along the coast of Cuba to stock up on fresh water before making the sail to Tortuga, but while the rest of the crew have been chattering excitedly about going onto land once more, some discussing about the things they want to buy Yunho to cheer him up while he’s still confined to bed rest, but even though you try, you can’t seem to build up any enthusiasm about it in the least.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Jongho says abruptly, and you sigh, fondly exasperated, Jongho has always had a penchant for being straightforward and unabashed in asking questions that need to be asked. The silence drags on between the two of you, and finally you accept that Jongho is insistent on not leaving until you give him a satisfactory answer. Cracking open your eyes, you tilt your head to the left to look at the younger battlemaster, he’s sitting cross legged with his cutlass lying across his lap, eyes fixed firmly on the ocean before you. In the distance, you see a line across the horizon, that must be the coastal village your captain had spoken about.

“I’m fine.” You let your eyes slip shut once more, and you don’t even need to see Jongho’s expression to know he doesn’t believe you in the least. You hear a clearly disbelieving snort escape him and your chest shakes slightly in amusement. 

“You haven’t been talking to Sanie-hyung for the past few days either.” He adds on bluntly, and a soft breath escapes you involuntarily; he’s noticed? Although, you suppose, it must have pretty obvious, you and your master used to be joined at the hip, and now, you can’t even look him in the eye without seeing the pain there.

Pain you caused.

“I’m fine.” You repeat again, more softly this time, as if you find it difficult to believe your own words. “I’m just…” You pause, rolling the breath around on the tip of your tongue as you attempt to find an appropriate word for it, “I’m just… tired.”

Tired is the best word you can come up with at the moment. You’re tired of so much, of the constant worrying if each day will be your last, of the repeated pushing away of your master even as he tries to convince you to tell your captain about your condition, of what will happen to them once you… once you…

Leave.

You want to tell someone, anyone, let your captain know. He could do something, you want to believe, but deep down somewhere, you know it’s hopeless; there is no cure. Deep in your bones, you have been made to be something temporal, and to tell Captain, to make him worry for you even after he has done so much for you already, knowing that he will blame himself when he inevitably fails to save you… you can bear the dying, but not the guilt.

“I don’t see how that has to do with you ignoring Sanie-hyung.” Jongho tells you, a frown on his face and you find yourself staring at him, soft cheeks still rounded like those of a child, dark, earnest eyes that shine with only honesty and genuine concern. You remember the time back when he had rescued you during your first battle with the Royal Navy, how you’d accidentally shot him in the arm, how he’d treated you to pastries, how he’d sung so beautifully so many nights on the deck for the rest of the crew to listen to. You don’t even realise you’re staring until Jongho snaps his fingers right in front of your face with a confused expression, looking mildly worried.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m okay.” You laugh softly, there’s something warm in your chest, like you’re wrapping up those precious memories and holding them close to you, they’re so warm they burn. You give him a bright smile, rise to your feet and stretch your arms above your head before he can say any more, grinning down at him, you’ll miss him so much. “Why did you come find me in the first place? Was there anything you wanted?”

“No, I-” Jongho tries to say, but before he can continue, there are a set of quick, light footsteps behind you, and the two of you turn simultaneously to see Yeosang hopping up the steps, as fast as his feet can carry him and a grin so bright it rivals the sun. “Chin Hae! Chin Hae!”

“That’s me.” You say jokingly, amused as the navigator dashes up to you, bouncing up and down and excitement overflowing from him. “What is it?”

“I made something!” Yeosang holds your left hand, bopping up and down excitedly on his toes and you make an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, Yeosang has been holed up in the captain’s cabin for the last few days making something that he hasn’t allowed anyone to see. “Do you want to see it?” He says, so thrilled you can’t help but tease him a little.

“Hmm…” You rub your chin with your stump, pretending to consider the question, Yeosang practically hanging on to whatever that’s about to leave your mouth. Then you sigh dramatically, shrug and say slowly, “Well… maybe I’m not that interested-”

The way Yeosang’s mouth falls open sends you into a fit of laughter, wiping the small tears at the corner of your eyes, you tug at Yeosang’s hand, ignoring the flabbergasted expression on his face. “I’m just joking!” You laugh, and Yeosang breathes out a sigh, clearly relieved. “Well then! Let’s go see what you’ve been up to! Jongho-oppa, are you coming along?”

“Yes, but-” Jongho tries to say, but before he can ask you any more, both you and Yeosang already halfway down the stairs, chattering excitedly, and even though there’s an infallible smile on your lips, Jongho can’t help but feel something is very, very wrong.

>>>

“Okay, sit here!” Yeosang practically forces you to sit on the bed and scurries over to his work table, while Seonghwa might be the official carpenter of the ship, Yeosang too, has interest in developing his wood working skills in more creative ways. This time, he bustles around carefully at the worktable tucked in the corner of the cabin, snapping at you when you so much as breathe in its direction. With a resigned sigh, you simply flop onto the bed and stare at the ceiling, counting the number of boards there.

Jongho watches you silently, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he tries to figure out what on earth could have happened. He usually sleeps the latest, choosing to practice his guitar late into the night when everyone else is asleep, and realises that you’ve been sleeping much later than usual, not going to bed when you usually do, or choosing to be alone on the forecastle deck, like you had been earlier that day. And when he wakes up early for his morning exercise runs around the deck, you’re already there, and he can see prominent dark shadows hanging underneath your eyes.

He worries. He knows he finds it difficult to speak his mind sometimes, but he watches, and he worries. This isn’t like you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were avoiding San. And from the way you had subtly tried to avoid his question earlier, he’s starting to believe that you are.

“Here!” Yeosang nearly trips over a stray book on the floor in his excitement but he doesn’t seem to care, telling you to hold out your hand and close your eyes. Smiling, you humour him, squeezing your eyes shut, your left hand outstretched. And gently, you feel something hard being put in your hand, it’s a little weighty, made presumably out of smooth, polished wood. Your fingers feel the sides, it seems to have an odd shape, and you tug at Yeosang’s sleeve, even with your eyes closed, you know he’s beaming uncontrollably. “Can I see it now?”

“Yes! Open your eyes!” Yeosang replies immediately, voice bright and bubbly, and you crack open an eye, full of anticipation as you gaze down at the object in your hand. And you freeze.

It’s an oddly shaped object, made of two pieces of hard, dark coloured wood. They’re joined in the middle by some sort of joint in a Y shape, two curved prongs protruding from a cup, the inside stuffed with wool. When you raise it up to your face to look at it more carefully, you see a long screw (where did he get that, hadn’t Seonghwa told you those were pretty hard to find once?) connecting the two pieces beneath the joint. Each piece of wood seems to have been smoothed out carefully by hand, so they both curve beautifully towards the centre, but as intricate and amazing as it looks… what is it supposed to do?

“Uhm…” You frown a little, turning it over in your hand. Jongho looks similarly confused. “What… what is it?”

“It’s a prosthetic hand! Wait, give me a second.” He says, reaching for his worktable and pulling a mess of leather straps and buckles from the pile of tools there all while you sit there, simply confused. Prosthetic hand? What did he mean by prosthetic hand? A small dowel drops to the ground in his rush but he doesn’t seem to notice, hurrying over to you and holding out the strap expectantly, as if you’re supposed to know what to do with it. “Hold out your…” he says, waving vaguely at your left arm, and frowning, you raise it up to him. It’s still covered in bandages, more for the sake of convincing your crewmates that the amputation wound is healing, but you know underneath the white cloth is skin… that hopefully isn’t crumbling. Yeosang shifts to the left, taking the contraption from you and attaching what seems to be a leather harness to it, his fingers fly over the buckles so quick your eyes can barely follow him.

“Here, tell me if it hurts, okay?” The navigator looks so concerned you nod immediately, while Jongho rises from his seat at the captain’s table to look more closely at what Yeosang is doing. Yeosang first slides the cup of the wooden contraption over the stump of your wrist, the woolen padding there fitting snugly around it, and then he pulls the leather straps over your forearm. One goes around the center of your arm, another just beneath the elbow crease, and another above. In the end, the device is strapped securely to your arm, and you shift your arm a little, studying the device at the end where your hand should be.

“It fits! That’s amazing. I mean, of course it works, I made it to work, but…” Yeosang beams excitedly, moving forward to sit next to you on the bed. “Let me show you how it works… Jongho-ah, fetch me that cup on captain’s table, will you?” 

Still puzzled, the younger battlemaster does as he says, moving over to pick up the wooden mug there. Yeosang peers into the cup, realises there’s still liquid inside and knocks it back before you can tell him to empty it into the sea instead, apparently too excited to bother moving over to the portholes. Then he makes a face of instant regret, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and making a noise that sounds suspiciously like “rum-ugh” before he sets the cup to the side, taking the prosthetic hand in his flesh and blood ones and cradling it gently.

“Let me show you how it works.” He says, and moves his fingers to the screw at the base of the cup over your stump. Both yours and Jongho’s eyes follow in fascination as he unscrews the long metal screw. As he does, your mouth falls open at the sheer ingenuity of it, the further he unscrews it, the wooden piece that isn’t attached to the cup slowly moves closer to its partner, thus causing the two pieces to come together. “Look, you can hold things with it.” Yeosang says, as if you aren’t on the verge of shock, and places the cup into its hold, before tightening the grip once more. When he’s finally satisfied that it’s not going to fall out, he lets go, and you feel the weight of the cup resting on your wrist, but it doesn’t slip out of your hands, and he… he…

“It’s amazing.” You breathe, transfixed, and your right hand reaches up to loosen the grip yourself. When you do, the cup falls out of the grip and Jongho manages to catch it for you, even with his eyes comically wide and fixed on the mindblowing contraption in your hand. “This is amazing, Yeosang. How did you think of this?”

Yeosang has never looked as proud in the entire time you’ve known him, but he fights to hide the positively gleeful smile on his face, scratching the back of his head with shy embarrassment. “Oh, I didn’t do much… Seonghwa-hyung helped with the woodwork and polishing… Captain was the one who’s been staying up at night to come up with the idea. I just made it possible. I hope you-” He doesn’t even manage to finish the sentence before you throw yourself into his arms, subconsciously trying to squeeze every bit of breath from his lungs just so he knows how grateful you are. Now that you look around, you can see scraps of paper tossed on the paper here and there, rough sketches done by your captain’s hand, the aggressive crossing out and the amount of thought that has been put into this. 

“Thank you, Yeosang-oppa… Thank you.” You manage to croak out, voice nearly overcome with emotion. Yeosang beams at you, looking satisfied, his work has come to fruition, and there’s nothing he could want more. Jongho lets out a sigh of relief too, glad that this has managed to get you to show some true emotion on your face, instead of the mild expressions that you’ve been wearing for the last few days, mere shadows of the lively, expressive person you had once been. 

All of a sudden, there’s the ringing of the ship’s bell from above and the voice of your ship’s quartermaster rings across the deck, down to the cabin and you perk up, Mingi’s bellow drifting to your ears.

“We’ve arrived at shore!”


End file.
